Stockholm Syndrome
by ohalaskayoung
Summary: Lips that once clamped shut in his presence now ached for his kiss. Legs that once trembled in fear now spread wide at his command. No one knows where we are, no one can hear my screams of pain and pleasure. I am completely at his mercy, and I love every second of it. Mockingjay AU. Contains extremely mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**.

It didn't start out like this.

His body is sold and warm behind mine, his breath tickling the hairs on the back of my neck. The skin between my legs is sticky with the product of our actions the night before. I roll over onto my back, and his arm tightens around my midsection.

It didn't start out like this.

I haven't seen my mother or Prim in weeks. They should have come for me by now, which makes me think that either they don't care that I'm gone or he's hidden us so well that we cannot be found.

Somehow, the latter seems most likely.

"Katniss," he murmurs, stirring slightly.

I roll over so we are face to face. "Good morning," I say.

Peeta blinks his eyes open, and his nose scrunches as he yawns. It's too cute an action for a man who has done what he has. _But, _I think_, perhaps that is how he has been able to keep up the illusion_. _No one else can retain such innocence and sin so perfectly at the same time._

"Are you ready to tell the truth now?" Peeta asks, tracing a line down my throat with his index finger. My heart rate increases and I gulp as he presses down on my pulse point.

It didn't start out like this, but that doesn't worry me. What worries me is that I might want this to be how it ends. What worries me is that I might prefer this over freedom. As I nod in response to Peeta's question, I realize that what worries me the most is that it doesn't really worry me at all.

* * *

**Hey, guys! I'll be posting the first chapter of this fic tomorrow night and the subsequent chapters every Wednesday, assuming all goes according to plan. I hope you all enjoyed this little taste of what is to come, and I can't wait to share it with all of you. This fic will contain some pretty heavy themes- violence, sexual content, explicit language, death- just so you are warned. You can find me on tumblr as 'ohalaskayoung' if you have any questions or ever want to chat.**

**Also, major thanks to my beta, wollaston, for her all of help with this.**

**xoxo**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter One.**

The doors of Command open and Haymitch pokes his head inside. I am on my feet before the words are even out of his mouth.

"They're back," he tells us. "They're in the hospital. I don't know much, only that we've got them."

Finnick makes a strangled noise, and I can see him start to shake. I grab him by the hand and tug him to his feet, and we race out the door towards the elevator. As we move to the hospital wing, he seems to slowly realize that what is happening is real, and when the doors open he springs forward into the throng of doctors outside of the hospital wing. His legs are almost swept out from under him when someone pushes a gurney around the corner. I look down and my stomach drops when I see Johanna, her face sallow and sunken, her head shaved and body covered in bruises. They roll her away before I can see anything else, but I am placated just knowing that she is alive.

We continue on, and I look through a doorway and see Gale, shirtless and bloody, breaking free of the doctors who surrounded him and lunging for a gurney outside of his door. His shaking hands touch the matted blonde hair on the girl's head, and I allow myself to think that she looks vaguely familiar before we turn the corner and I forget about them entirely.

"Finnick!"

I wish I had a camera to film Finnick's reaction as a young woman comes flying towards us. Her dark hair is tangled and the skin around her sea green eyes is swollen and blotchy, and the only thing covering her nude body is a flimsy bed sheet. Finnick drops the rope he kept in his hands and grabs her as soon as she is within reach. His eyes, the ones that had been lifeless for the past few weeks, arenow bright and glassy. A smile- a real, genuine smile, not the smirks he gave to the cameras in the Capitol- graces his face as they collide. I watch them as they collapse against a wall and cling to each other, and, for a second, I am jealous: No one seeing them could doubt their love.

"We got them all out." Boggs appears in front of Haymitch and I, looking like he is about to collapse. "Even an Avox girl that Hawthorne insisted we take with us. We couldn't find Enobaria, but since she's from Two, we doubt she's being held anyway. Peeta's at the end of the hall, but-"

_Peeta_.

I don't listen to the rest of his words. My feet move on their own accord, and I'm sprinting down the hall toward his room, anxious and excited and happier than I've been in months. I still for a moment outside his door, briefly unsure of what I should say or do, but then I realize it won't matter. He'll probably be kissing me anyway.

I push open the door and my breath catches in my chest. There he is, awake and surrounded by a dozen doctors all poking and prodding at him. I allow myself a second of disappointment for not being the first face he sees, and then push forward through a gaggle of nurses taking his vitals.

"Peeta," I breathe. His eyes snap up to mine, and I watch his features register disbelief and something more intense that I can't quite place. Is it desire? Desperation? Most likely both, judging by the way he worms out of the grip of the doctors and leaps to his feet. I open my arms to him and call out his name again.

My hands just brush the sides of his face when his fingers lock around my throat.

* * *

I tell myself that I don't like to think about what happened, but that's a lie. I think about it all the time.

_After Peeta's catastrophic return, I couldn't stay in Thirteen, so I was sent to Two with Boggs and Beetee. Gale was supposed to accompany us, but he never showed, instead communicating with us over the phone. When I spoke to him, he told me that he had other business that needed taking care of. In hindsight, I suppose that was for the best. My time alone gave me the opportunity to reflect on my relationships with both him and Peeta. Or rather, lack of._

_I received updates on Peeta's condition from Haymitch and Plutarch in between Gale's calls to talk strategy with Boggs. Some days gave me more hope than others, but I tried to not let myself become too optimistic. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of our reunion._

_After Gale's advice to blow up the Nut led to me being shot on television, I was sent back. The morning of my return to Thirteen, I headed straight to the dining hall and was surprised to find that instead of an open seat next to Gale in the dining hall, he was joined by a petite young woman with thick blonde hair, haggardly cut to her shoulders. I took a seat across from them, a hundred questions already formed in my head, but when I looked up all I could say was one word._

_"Madge."_

_The Mayor's daughter, the girl who bought our strawberries, the original owner of my Mockingjay pin. My friend. She looked up at me and offered a shy smile. Gale's arm encompassed her shoulders and drew her closer to him. My eyes widened at the intimate movement, and I expected to feel something- jealousy, anger, betrayal- but nothing came. Madge herself even looked surprised by the movement, but she said nothing._

_"You escaped the bombings! Were you in the Capitol?" I asked. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?"_

_She dropped her gaze and nodded, but I didn't know which question she was answering. I reached across the table and grabbed her trembling hand. _

_"Madge, what-" And then I saw it. The weird tightness of her lips, the trouble she had swallowing. "Oh, no."_

_The Capitol had turned her into an Avox._

_I got up and walked away without another word. Gale called my name, but I ignored him. I was scheduled to shoot another propo an hour later, but it looked like they would be getting me earlier than anticipated. I was full of fire, and the Capitol needs to burn._

_Gale found me the next morning on the way to breakfast. He put a hand on m elbow and guided me to the side of the hallway, letting the rest of Thirteen move past us. Some stared, but most continued on their way without a second thought._

_"I'm sorry about yesterday," he said. "I didn't want you to find out like that."_

_"What, that Madge is an Avox or that you two are together?"_

_Gale gaped. "What? No, we're not-How did you-"_

_I forced a smile. "It was a little obvious."_

_"Oh. Well, then. Are you...?"_

_"Okay with it?" I prompted. He nodded. "I am."_

_It wasn't a lie. I was not jealous or angry, at least not because they're together. I was angry at the Capitol, angry at them for hurting another person I care about. But I _was_ happy for Gale and Madge. I remembered, all those lifetimes ago, when Madge brought Gale the morphling during a snowstorm. I wondered how long ago their relationship started._

_"Good," Gale said. He awkwardly backed away and nodded down the hall. "Shall we?"_

_I followed him in silence until we reached the dining hall. I saw Johanna, her hair growing in in fuzzy patches, arguing over a piece of bread with Greasy Sae. Madge was hovering by our empty table, clutching her tray and looking around anxiously. _

_"She was the reason you didn't join me in Two, wasn't she?" I asked._

_Gale looked at her, and I saw, just for a moment, a flicker of light in his eyes. He looked younger, like he did before the Rebellion. Before life made him age too quickly. "Yes," he said. "She was."_

_Two weeks passed, and before I knew it Finnick and Annie were married and Peeta wanted to speak with me. I approached him cautiously, unsure if I would be embraced or attacked when I walked through the door. Compared to what actually happened, I would have preferred the latter. He was rational, his vision unclouded by the love he used to feel for me. Now, he saw me for what I truly am: Violent, distrustful, manipulative. Deadly._

_And I hated him for it._

* * *

No one is more surprised than me when Peeta approaches our table the next night at dinner, a tray held between his cuffed hands. His guards are stoic beside him, but he wears a smirk and stares directly at me.

"Good evening," he says. "Is there room for one more?"

No one moves, save for Annie, who hums to herself as she scoots closer to Finnick to make room. Peeta flashes her a small smile, a genuine one, before plunking down next to her. She, of course, was sitting across from me. I refuse to meet his gaze as he digs in to his bland meal.

"So, Peeta," Finnick starts slowly, "how was your day?"

Peeta grimaces as he swallows a spoonful of beets. "Well," he begins, and I know that this is not going to end well. "I spent a good portion of my day seeing the same video tapes over and over and trying to decipher if they were real. Not too different from how my days were a few weeks ago, except now I'm not being restrained, beaten, and injected with a hallucinogen." He looks down at his handcuffs. "Well, at least not _totally_ restrained. What an improvement."

Johanna snorts from beside Finnick, and I shoot her a glare she does not see. Peeta sends her an appreciative wink. "What about you, Jo? Are they torturing you, too?"

"Every day for the past five years," she says drily. "You learn to love it."

My stomach turns. It seems that everyone else is experiencing similar reactions to their banter. Gale's face is twisted like he just tasted week old goat cheese, and Madge is gripping his hand tightly and staring at Peeta with wide eyes. Finnick rolled his eyes at his coarse manner and pulled Annie closer to him, murmuring in her ear as she shook her head back and forth.

"So, Katniss," he says, putting down his utensils and looking directly at me. "You left in a hurry last night."

I can feel everyone's eyes on me, but I don't look at them. I didn't tell anyone about my visit with him last night. Why would I? I don't need everyone knowing that the one person who would supposedly always love me now can barely look at me without contempt. Although, given that he had tried to kill me, I don't think anyone would be too surprised.

Still, I don't say a word. Peeta clucks his tongue and shakes his head, as if disappointed in me.

"What you didn't tell anyone?"

"Why would she?" Johanna says, scraping at her bowl. "You probably scared the shit out of her."

Peeta laughs loudly. "Did I? That's a first. Lately, she's the one I've been terrified of."

"Please, stop," I say, glaring at both of them. "Just let us eat our food in peace."

"I'm not stopping you from eating, Katniss. Or does my presence nauseate you?"

"Peeta," Gale warns. "This isn't you, man."

"You see," Peeta says, a false brightness to his voice, "that's what everyone keeps saying. But what if it is, huh? What if, all this time, I've been blinded by love for this girl who doesn't even have the decency to like me back, let alone love me, and now the real me is starting to show?"

"That's not true," I spit. "You're so delusional you don't even know what you're talking about."

"Then, please, Katniss, enlighten me. Please tell me the damn truth because everyone seems to be telling me what really happened but none of them are _you_!"

"Well, sorry if I'm a little hesitant to be in your presence since the last few times we've been around each other you've both insulted me and tried to kill me!"

"I need some fucking help, Katniss!" Peeta snarls, slamming his hands on the table so hard that our trays shake. I try to ignore the chill that shakes my body when I hear him curse. "Maybe if you stopped throwing yourself a pity party you could see that you're the only one who can give it to me."

It seems as if the whole dining hall has gone silent. Johanna is hiding a smirk behind her hands, and Gale looks like he is using all of his willpower not to lunge across the table. I, on the other hand, am shaking and trying my hardest not to let my voice shake as I speak.

"Fuck you," I seethe. "Good luck getting me to help you now."

We stare at each other in silence. His eyes are narrowed but his lips are twisted up in a slight smirk. He looks sinister, almost evil. It hits me then, how much I ache for the lighthearted boy who flashed me smiles that made me blush. Not the cold hearted man who makes me want to curl up and sob.

"I think it's time you go," Gale says slowly. I think he was expecting a fight, but Peeta surprises us all when he nodded amicably.

"I look forward to more of our conversations, Katniss," Peeta says, standing up. His guards appear out of thin air. I scoff and roll my eyes. Peeta glares at me for a moment, and then turns and storms away.

"Are you okay?" Gale murmurs to me as he disappears. I drop my gaze and stare down at my plate, my appetite suddenly gone.

"I'm fine," I mutter, standing up. "I think I'm actually going to head to bed."

"Don't you have to meet with Plutarch?" Gale asks as I dump the rest of my beets onto Johanna's plate. She scarfs them up ravenously.

"Not anymore."

I escape to my compartment and slip into my bed, exhaustion dripping from my bones. I don't expect sleep to come, but I still close my eyes and curl the blankets tightly around me. If I think hard enough, I can almost convince myself that they are a pair of strong arms, holding me close and keeping the nightmares away.

Later that night, after my mother and Prim are asleep, I slip from my bed and tiptoe through the hallways, meandering around the corridors until I find the closet in the Education Center that has become my hideaway. Tucking myself behind supply boxes, I reach into my pocket and pull out Peeta's pearl, the one he presented to me in the Arena, just a little while before we split up.

_Oh, Peeta._

_Do I love him?_ I ask myself that question every day, and again right now, as I roll the pearl between my fingers. _Yes,_ I decide. _I do. I did. _I am not sure how or when it happened, but I do know that there was a time when I loved Peeta Mellark.

I allow myself to wonder what would have happened if we hadn't been separated. If they had been able to rescue both of us. Would we have been together? I press the pearl to my lips and release a choked sob. _Yes_, I think. _If he would have had me, I would have been his. _

But now, I have no idea.

* * *

I wake earlier than the sun the next morning with a stiff neck and a nagging feeling of guilt. I leave the closet and head for my compartment, but at the last second I divert and head towards Peeta's room. I turn down the hall in the hospital wing, almost abandoned at such an early hour, with a shitty but genuine apology for my behavior forming in my head, when I see them. Peeta's guards.

Unconscious outside on the floor outside of his room.

I sprint the rest of the way down the hall and kneel beside them. They are breathing, their pulses strong. Incapacitated, not injured. The door to Peeta's room is slightly ajar, and I eye it for a minute before stepping over the limp bodies of the men and stepping inside.

The room is neat and tidy, just like how Peeta would keep it. His bed is made, there is nothing cluttering the floor. Only I don't suppose he has anything to clutter the floor with. The only thing wrong with the room is that Peeta is not in it. Which means he either knocked out his guards and took off, or someone else knocked out his guards and took off with him. My gut tells me that the former is most likely the truth.

Goosebumps break out across my flesh, and suddenly Peeta's pristine room is foreboding and not calming. My heart starts to race, and I know I need to get out of there. Something bad is going to happen, and I don't want to be around for it.

I leave his room and try my best to haul his guards into a sitting position against the wall. I gently shake them, but when that does not work I slap both across the face. They startle and regain consciousness, but are still groggy.

"Peeta's gone," I tell them frantically. "Do you hear me? Peeta's gone!"

They only look at me strangely before their eyes roll back in their heads and they pass out again. I back away, horrified.

_What has Peeta done to them?_

I shout for someone, a nurse, a doctor, but no on answers my call. The patients are all either asleep or sedated. I spot one nurse down the hall, nodding off against the door of a room, a clipboard still in hand and snoring lightly.

"Nurse!" I call, not wanting to leave the men. The best she can do is tend to the guards, but at least they will be treated while I get Boggs, or Haymitch, or even Coin. Someone who can find Peeta before he hurts himself.

Or me.

The woman hasn't budged, so I reluctantly head towards her. "Nurse!" I call again, trying to remain calm and keep the panic out of my voice. "Nurse, these men-"

A strong hand clamps around my mouth and yanks me backward. I scream and start to flail immediately, but an arm folds around my midsection and traps my arms from the elbows up and I am dragged back down the hall. My shrieks are muffled by the hand, and my weak punches land on muscle. My only power comes from my legs, which are kicking and twisting and doing their very best to remove my from my captor's grip.

"Shh. Don't make this harder for yourself."

My legs stop moving, and I let myself be dragged past the bodies of the guards and into Peeta's room. I am able to twist my head and squint up at my captor. Cold, blue eyes stare back down at me, and I don't think before biting down on the hand across my mouth. Hard.

"Fuck!"

A momentary lapse in grip is all I need, and I break free and am sprinting for the door when a hand catches my ankle and I tumble to the floor. I am yanked backwards, crying and reaching for the door, and then my hands are pinned above my head and my captor looms over me.

"Oh, Katniss," Peeta sighs. "I told you not to make this hard."

Then all I see is black.

* * *

**So, there's Chapter One. What did you guys think?**

**Just reminding you all that this fic will contain extremely mature topics and events (though I'm sure all of you love that stuff as much as I do). If you have any questions, comments, or just want to chat, I'm on tumblr as 'ohalaskayoung'.**

**xoxo**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Two.**

I don't know how much later it is when I come to. The first thing I register is the throbbing in my head. The second is the thick straps tied tightly around my wrists and ankles. I immediately begin to panic, but before I can utter a scream a hand closes over my mouth.

Peeta's face looms into my line of vision. He's smirking slightly, and he removes his hand just long enough to shove a wad of fabric in my mouth. I reflexively try to spit it back out, but I only end up gagging myself.

"Now, now," he says. "Don't get yourself worked up, Katniss."

I send him my fiercest glare, and he chuckles.

"Whhmph mmph hm dmmph," I try to say. Peeta pulls up a chair and takes a seat, and it's then that I realize that I'm on his bed. The thought makes me blush, and I curse myself for having such a ridiculous reaction.

"What am I doing?" Peeta asks, understanding my question. He leans back in the chair and tilts his head as he looks at me. "Why, I'm taking back control."

My eyes widen and I frantically glance around the room. _For what?_ I chastise myself. _You're tied up and gagged. Peeta's guards are unconscious. No one knows you're here._

"Don't work yourself into a fit, Katniss," Peeta says. "You're no use to me if you're in a state."

"Fmmp hmmph."

"Fuck me, huh?" Peeta throws back his head in laughter. "All in due time."

There was no winning with this Peeta. To gain any leverage, I have to do it his way. I slump against the pillows, averting my eyes.

"What's wrong, Girl On Fire? Did someone douse your flames?"

_Not quite,_ I think. But I don't look at Peeta. I train my gaze on his knees and remain silent.

"Oh, I see." He grips my chin and forces me to look up. I try and look past his head, but he moves his face so close to mine that I can feel his breath on my nose, giving me no choice but to stare directly at him. "You think that if you're quiet I'll free your mouth."

I stay absolutely still, searching his narrowed eyes. They are the same Merchant blue that I remember, but they are lacking the light behind them that make them _his_. Now his eyes are cold, dull. Almost dead. The thought makes me want to be sick.

Suddenly, the fabric is gone from my mouth and I lurch forward, coughing and smacking my tongue, trying to rid my mouth of the taste. "What _was_ that?" I spit.

Peeta holds up the slightly damp object. "My sock," he says with a smirk.

Not sure if he's joking or not, I attempt to lean over and glance at his feet, but the restraints prevent me from doing so. But Peeta lifts his leg and places it on the bed, his bare foot in plain sight. I gag a bit, and I don't miss his satisfied grin.

"The real you wouldn't do that," I say before I can stop myself. Peeta's face falls and he waves the sock in my face. I twist away as much as I can, clamping my lips tightly together.

"That's what I thought," he snaps. "Now watch what you say before I shove something bigger in that filthy mouth of yours."

_Bigger_? It takes me a moment to understand his reference. When I do, I can feel my face ignite. Oh. _He means his..._

"How long have I been out?" I say, desperate to change the topic. "What did you do to me?"

"Only a few minutes," he says, much to my surprise. "All it took was a bit of pressure-" he leaned forward and tapped the space behind my jaw and beneath my ear-"and you were out like a light. It only works for a few minutes at most. Just enough time for me to secure you so you can't hurt me."

I try to ignore the flash of pain I feel at his accusation. "Then why does my head hurt?" I ask.

"I may have hit your head on the table as I carried you to the bed." Peeta's only attempt at an apology is a half-hearted shrug. "Wasn't my intention."

"Sure," I scoff.

"I don't want to hurt you." His voice is genuine, and for a brief second I catch a glimpse of the old Peeta, _my_ Peeta. It vanishes and Capitol Peeta returns when he says, "I just want to kill you sometimes."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

"Oh, no, Katniss," he assures me, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Hurting someone and killing someone are two very different things. In fact, one might say that the latter is almost an act of kindness."

I can see his point. I am beginning to wish that someone had picked me off during our first round in the Games. Both of us, even. It would have saved a lot of lives and a lot of trouble.

"So what about the guards?" I ask, trying to waste time. They're bound to either wake up or be found any minute. Our time is nearly up. "What did you do to them?"

"I learned a few tricks while I was in the Capitol," he says. His body suddenly tenses, and I know the conversation is over. He stands and crosses the room, running his hands through his hair.

"Peeta?"

"_Shut up_!" he snaps.

"What's wrong?" I ask. He starts pacing, one bare foot and one clothed one slapping against the tile floor. His breaths are coming in heavy pants that are making me more nervous with each one. He looks like he's about to snap, and I am completely vulnerable to his rage.

"Look at you," he spits at me. "A filthy mutt tied up like a fucking whore. I bet you even like it."

My heart stutters, and I try to ignore his words. "Peeta, calm down."

"Do I need to gag you again?" he shouts. "Or do you want my cock this time?"

I cannot hide the squeak that escapes me at his vulgarity. The noise shocks him, and he stops pacing for a moment. I jump on my chance and speak again.

"Peeta Mellark, take a deep breath. I'm not going to hurt you."

He collapses onto his knees, burying his face in his hands, rocking back in forth. I don't know what to do. He begins muttering things, slurred phrases I can barely make out. I hear my name, a few foul words, the occasional 'no'. He looks absolutely insane.

"How did you know I would come?" I say suddenly. Peeta looks up from his rocking but doesn't stop. "Peeta? You knocked out your guards, you hid and waited for me to come into your room. How did you know I would come?"

"I-I don't-"

"It's because you know me," I insist, straining forward. I can feel the blood trickling down my arms from how hard I am tugging at the restraints but I don't care. "You know me, Peeta. You knew that I would feel bad about what happened and would come to apologize. You know me better than anyone, Peeta, and you know that I won't hurt you."

His rocking slowly comes to a stop. "You won't...hurt me?"

"No, Peeta," I say, surprised to feel tears pricking at my eyes. "I won't hurt you. I'll never hurt you."

It's a promise I know I shouldn't have made, but is has the effect I wanted. Peeta's breathing returns to normal and he stands, albeit unsteadily, and makes his way back to the bed.

"How do I know you're not lying?" he asks, trailing a hand up my leg. I tense as he squeezes my thigh.

"You don't," I breathe. "You just need to trust me."

"Trust you?" The words look like they hurt coming out of his mouth. "Trust you."

I stay as still as I can as he studies me. His eyes trail over my face, down my neck, linger on my chest, and then continue down my stomach and legs. His hand twitches, and before I can blink he lurches forward and roughly unties the binds on my left wrist.

"Go," he spits, turning his back. "Before I change my mind."

He doesn't have to tell me twice. I quickly free my other wrist and, ignoring the searing pain from my open wounds, practically rip open the bindings on my ankles. Peeta flinches away from me as I move towards the door, and I pause.

"Peeta..."

"What?" he snaps.

"I _am_ sorry," I say, "for what happened last night. And if you'll have me, I'd like to help you get better."

He studies me, pursing his lips and wringing his hands. Finally, he gives me a curt nod, and as I fly out the door, I swear I catch a glimpse of a smile.

* * *

Haymitch pulls me aside at breakfast. I follow him from the table put keep a firm grip on my bowl of oatmeal. We lean against the wall of the dining hall, away from the prying ears of Thirteen's population.

"Where did you escape to last night, sweetheart?"

I pull down the sleeves of my shirt to cover the bandages I had wrapped around my wrist. "Escape?"

"Don't play dumb with me, I know you weren't in your room."

"And how do you know that?" I ask through a spoonful of oatmeal. "Did you pay me a visit?"

Haymitch grabs me by the arm and yanks the spoon away from my mouth. Oatmeal splashes onto the front of my shirt and I gasp in pain as his hand brushes my wrist. He notices my reaction and yanks my sleeve up my arm.

"What happened here?" he murmured. "Don't tell me our Mockingjay tried to-"

"I didn't try to kill myself," I snapped. "You know me better than that."

"Are you serious?" Haymitch scoffs. "I've only known you for about two years and you've tried to off yourself about three times."

"But this wasn't one of them, so can we move on, please?" I yanked my arm back and frowned at the stain on my shirt.

"Sure. Let's talk about how instead of going hunting today you're going to be meeting with Plutarch."

"What?" I exclaim. "That's not fair! I'm supposed to go with Gale today-"

"You should've thought of that before blowing him off last night," Haymitch says with a smirk. "He's expecting you in an hour, sweetheart."

He pats my cheek and sticks a grubby finger in my oatmeal for a scoop before walking away, chuckling to himself. I head back over to my table and give the rest of my breakfast to Johanna, who doesn't seem the least bit deterred my Haymitch's finger germs. I explain my situation to Gale, who seems less than thrilled, but doesn't disagree with my mentor.

"I told you that you had to meet with him," he points out.

"Shut up," I growl. I catch Madge smiling, and it strikes me then how much I miss hearing her voice. Mine softens as I speak to her. "How are you, Madge?"

She shrugs and Gale presses a kiss to her forehead. "We're getting better," he answers for her. I notice a small notebook on the table and nod to it.

"You've been using that?"

Madge perks up suddenly, as if just remembering it was there. She flips it open and hurriedly begins to scribble on the pages. When she's done, she holds it up to me with a proud smile.

_I'm getting better. I'm just so thankful to be alive. Gale is helping me a lot._

_What you're doing is so amazing, Katniss. I think you've been an inspiration since you first volunteered for Prim and I want to help in any way that I can. _

"Oh, Madge," I sigh. "I'm so happy that you're here."

She's intelligent, she's kind, she has a reason to despise the Capitol. The rebellion could definitely use her. Plus, she likes me, and I can use all the friends I can get right now.

* * *

I hear him approach as I slid my tray along the metal rack, trying not to grimace as Greasy Sae slops a dinner of colorless stew with what looks like potatoes into my bowl. He joins me in line and holds his tray out as well.

"Hello," Peeta says, and I'm shocked by the gentle tone of his voice. I glance up in surprise to find him wearing a sheepish grin. "How's your head?"

I suppose that's his best attempt at an apology. At least the throbbing is almost gone. "I've had worse," I tell him. We are both issued a slice of bread. "How's yours?"

He chuckles. "I've been better."

I notice his guards trailing us as we approach the table. They aren't his usual ones, and for a brief second my gut twists with worry that he had inflicted permanent injury. "Who are they?"

"My new watchdogs," he says with a grim smile. "My old ones were relieved of their duty after they were found..._sleeping_ on the job."

"Oh?"

"You don't know how _lucky_ we are that I was fast asleep also," Peeta says in mock seriousness. "I could have been out inflicting some _serious damage_."

I surprise the both of us by bursting out in a fit of laughter. I get some strange looks as we take our seats at the table, but I pay them no mind.

"Well," Finnick says, "I'll have what you two are having."

"Same here," Johanna murmurs, arching an eyebrow. "You two look like you're on some kind of morphling high." As an afterthought, she adds, "Or just reveling in the afterglow of a good fuck."

I choke on my water, and Gale as to thump me on the back a few times before I can breathe again. Peeta is staring at me strangely, and I avert my eyes.

"Hey now, Jo, let's not give them any ideas," Finnick says.

"We didn't- I haven't- We're not-" I stutter, trying to defend myself. Madge gently squeezes my arm and gives me a sympathetic smile.

"We know," Annie says softly. "Don't let them work you up, Katniss."

"Excuse me," Peeta mutters, standing up. "I-I need to get out of here."

His guards materialize and grip him by the elbows. Instead of fighting them, he lets them lead him away without struggle. He starts muttering to himself again, and I hear my name and the word 'baby'. My stomach plummets.

"Was it something we said?" Johanna asks brusquely.

"Yes," I snap. "It was something _you_ said."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, _really_," I say, not hiding the venom in my voice. "Do you realize what you've done? You of all people know best what the Capitol did to him. He's still incredibly confused about everything, and you sit here talking about..._that_? For all I know, he probably believes I actually was pregnant and that I killed the baby!"

"Calm down, Brainless," Johanna scoffs. "Did you see him? He looked like he was handling himself. He probably got a little too excited at the idea of you two rolling around in the sheets and had to leave before everyone saw his little man standing to attention."

"Do you have to be so crude?" Gale says exasperatedly.

"You love it, Gorgeous." Johanna blows him a kiss, and Madge tenses.

"I can't believe you," I mutter, putting my silverware down and pushing my chair back. It seems that I can never finish a meal lately.

"Hey, Katniss, don't go," Finnick says. "Jo will behave herself. I promise."

"Johanna's a big girl," I say, staring right at her. "She can make promises herself."

"Don't patronize me, Brainless," she says in a sickly sweet voice. "That's a road you don't want to go down."

I scoot my chair forward and pick up my spoon again. "You know, I didn't know how to feel about you when we first met." I break off a piece of bread and pop it into my mouth. "I was pretty sure that you just barely tolerated me. You probably still feel that way. But we're at war, Johanna. I'm not good with people, and I'm not good at making friends, but I know that we all need each other right now. We need allies, all of us. Even you. So I think it would be wise of you to try and be nice to people rather than driving them insane."

Finnick leans back in his chair and lets out a low whistle. "Well, well, well," he says. "There you are, Girl On Fire. We've missed you."

"Thanks for the words of wisdom," Johanna snaps, grabbing her tray and standing up so abruptly her chair falls over. "I'll be sure to remember them while I'm busy not giving a fuck."

"Aw, Jo," Finnick whines at her retreating back. "Don't be like that."

She ignores him as she marches out of the dining hall. A man stops her at the door, motioning to her tray of food, and she shoves him out of the way. I allow myself to feel guilty, but then I remember Peeta, and my anger returns.

"Don't worry about her," Finnick assures me. "She'll come around. You were right to say that."

"But she _has_ had a rough time," Annie chimes in. "She doesn't mean to be so abrasive." She looks like she's about to say more, but then her eyes catch something above my head, and she starts humming a tune I don't recognize. Finnick must know it, because he smiles widely and kisses her nose.

Madge reaches across Gale and holds her notebook in front of my face.

_You were too easy on her, in my opinion._

I shoot her a grateful smile.

"Well, it's been an eventful night as always," Gale announces, "but we have to get going. I have a meeting with Beetee and Madge has a doctor's appointment."

He stands and offers her a hand, which she accepts with a light blush. As they leave together, hand in hand, I'm suddenly acutely aware of how alone I am. I think about Peeta, about the way his breath felt on my face, and how his hand felt on my leg, burning my skin even through the thick fabric of my pants. Those moments had made my heart race, and not out of fear. This Peeta, this Capitol-engineered man who can't decide if he hates me or loves me, he is everything my Peeta wasn't. He is rough and vulgar and full of confusion and anger. He isn't gentle, he isn't kind. He's dangerous and unstable and yet, I can't help but find myself drawn to him.

_Oh, shit_, I think to myself. _This isn't good_.

* * *

**I'm so thrilled with the amazing responses to this fic. You all have been so kind and enthusiastic, and I am so grateful. Thanks to my beta, the fabulous wollaston, who is always fabulous and a huge help. **

**If you have any questions or just want to chat, I'm on tumblr as 'ohalaskayoung'.**

**xoxo**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Three.**

I find Johanna in the hospital wing the next afternoon. She isn't in her room, but I find her two doors down, hooking herself up to a morphling drip.

"Want do you want?" she snaps without looking at me. She taps her arm twice and then sighs as the painkiller flows into her system. "Finally come to apologize?"

"It's barely been twenty-four hours," I say, stepping inside the room and shutting the door behind me.

"You should've done it after twenty-four seconds." She looks at me over her shoulder. "Well?"

"I _did_ come here to talk to you," I admit. "But I'm not apologizing unless you are."

"Why should I apologize?" she scoffs.

"Are you kidding me?" I exclaim. "You were the one who made Peeta, um, have a, uh..." I trail off, unsure of exactly what _did_ happen to him.

"A flashback," Johanna says. "That's what the doctors called it. I overheard them last night."

"Is...is he okay now?" I ask.

"I haven't heard any screams today." Johanna shrugs and adjusts herself so she is laying down on the bed. Her eyes flutter closed. "I know you're not sorry, Brainless."

She's right. I don't regret what I said. I feel slightly remorseful that she took it the wrong way, but I can push that feeling away easily.

"Neither are you."

"I can't be held accountable for what I say." Her left eye opens and she smirks at me. "My doctor has been telling me not to censor my thoughts."

I don't know if she just decides to ignore me after that or just falls asleep, but she doesn't speak again, even when I bid her goodbye. I feel a bit lighter knowing that we're okay, but the weight returns when I pass Peeta's room. His new guards are standing ramrod straight outside of his door, and their eyes follow me as I pass them.

_Do I try and see if he's okay? _

I shake away the notion before it's even fully formed. If Peeta wanted to see me, he would ask to. Showing up uninvited hasn't worked out very well for me so far. So I continue past the guards and into the elevator, trying to fight the blush that blossomed over my skin at the thought of what happened the last time I entered his room.

* * *

"I think you're really helping him," Prim says to me as we get ready for bed. "I know he's not nearly close to being back to normal, but he's made a lot of progress since they rescued him."

Peeta has been requesting to see me more and more often since his flashback. Some visits are worse than others; one particularly bad one ended with him being sedated after trying to throw a chair at my head. But others are surprisingly nice. Last week, when I was about to leave, he reached for me, as if to give me a hug, but he stopped himself last second and instead gave me a soft pat on the cheek. His hand shook slightly, but I didn't care. I had missed his touch.

"I just hope it's enough."

"It will be. You just have to have hope." Prim crawls under the covers and stretches out like Buttercup used to do in front of the fireplace in our house. Our mother is working in the hospital wing overnight, so it's just Prim and I for the evening. It's nice to be by ourselves for a little while. I haven't had much time for her lately, and the thought wracks me with guilt.

"Watch out, Little Duck!" I give myself a running start before leaping onto her bed. She shrieks, and the bed frame groans as I land on it, but it's drowned out by our laughter.

"Katniss, you're on my legs!" She shoves me to the other side of the bed. I wedge myself up against the wall and try not to encroach on her space. The bed is just big enough for one person, but this is the one time where I'm thankful that we're both on the smaller side.

"Come on," I say, poking at her side. "Don't you miss sharing a bed?"

"Not with you." She pokes me back. "You kicked."

I gape at her. "I did not!"

"Did too."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

I yank the pillow out from beneath her head and whap her with it. "Primrose Everdeen, you are a liar!"

"Oh yeah?" Prim leaps out of bed and grabs the pillow off of my bed. She holds it above her head, poised to strike. "Am I lying when I say that you _adore_ Buttercup?"

"_Yes_." I roll out of her bed and face her. "That cat is a menace."

"I think you secretly love him." Prim bounces at me and swings the pillow, but I deflect it easily.

"Now you're really lying."

"Am I lying when I say that you're jealous of Madge?"

I still, dropping the pillow. Prim's smile disappears, and she takes a step towards me, arms up in surrender.

"Why would I be jealous of Madge?" I ask, trying to keep my voice level. "I feel awful about what's happened to her."

"I meant about her and Gale," Prim says, softer now. She flushes, probably realizing that she's toeing the line. "Forget it. I shouldn't have said anything."

"But you did. Why would I be jealous of her and Gale? I don't-"

"I know you don't feel that way about Gale," Prim sighs. "I meant jealous that they can be together. That she got out of the Capitol and was able to with the man she loves and..."

I busy myself with putting the pillows back onto the beds and smoothing out the sheets. "I don't love Peeta."

"You did, though," she says. "You could again."

"Not if he doesn't get better. I can't love someone who wants to kill me." I can't really love anybody, period. They seem to always be the ones who get hurt.

"He won't want to kill you forever," Prim insists. She climbs under the sheets. "He'll get better soon."

"Okay, Little Duck," I sigh. I wish I had her optimism. "Lights out now."

She reaches up and flicks the switch beside her bed. The room is plunged into darkness. I climb into bed and lay with my head against the pillow, facing the ceiling.

"Goodnight, Katniss," Prim says. "I love you."

For some reason, the words put a lump in my throat. "I love you, too, Little Duck," I say. "Goodnight."

* * *

Coin rallies us in Command the next morning: Finnick, Annie, Gale, Madge, and I. She looks a less than keen on Annie being there, but Finnick's possessive arm around her waist signifies that she is never leaving his side again. Johanna shows up just as Coin is about to speak, looking bedraggled but otherwise mentally present. She comes to stand next to me, and I hide my smile.

"Well, now that we're all here," Coin begins, shooting Johanna a glare. "A boy was found on the outskirts of our training grounds this morning. From what they could make out through his delirious state, he claims to be a victim of the same Capitol treatment as you three unfortunately were." She nods in the direction of the other women.

Annie's hands clamp over her ears, and when Finnick glowers at Coin she merely shrugs, as if she knew inviting Annie to the meeting would be trouble but was coerced into it. Madge makes an odd, strangled noise and begins scribbling frantically into her notebook.

"Did he tell you his name?" Gale asks, reading from what Madge wrote.

"We were not able to gain that information, no," Coin says. "He's currently sedated, and our doctors are treating him for his injuries and any illnesses suffered during his journey to us. When he is fit to be woken, he will be screened, just as you were for information. However, instead of being weaned into the population, we think it's best if he gets to know you all first. Since you have shared experiences and all that."

The careless way Coin refers to the torture and maiming of my friends makes me bristle. Johanna sucks on her teeth beside me, and I silently commend her for staying quiet. From what I've learned, disrespecting President Coin gets you nowhere.

"So, you called us here-"

Finnick's words are cut off by the slamming off the doors. Peeta walks in, his hands free of his shackles and guards out of sight. After the flash of fear that initially runs through me, I feel a touch of excitement. His lack of restraints either means he has made vast improvements...or he's been able to forcibly remove them. Since no one around me looks surprised, I decide to go with the former.

"Mr. Mellark," Coin says stiffly. "I don't believe that you were invited to this meeting."

"I just thought my invitation had been lost in the mail," he says. Johanna snorts, and he comes to stand by the two of us. "Hello, ladies."

"I understand that you have been deemed safe enough to move about without any restraints, Mr. Mellark, but that does not give you free reign to impose upon meetings and wander about as you please. You have a schedule to keep."

Peeta flashes his bare arm innocently. "I don't have a schedule, President Coin."

She inhales sharply. "Regardless of that, you are still not authorized to be here."

"On the contrary." Peeta slips his arms around our waists and pulls Johanna and I close. "I think I've been kept out of the loop for too long. It's about time someone filled me in."

"Despite what your doctors might say, Mr. Mellark, the reason you were not invited to this meeting was because I'm not sure you're mentally stable enough to handle certain information."

"Haven't you heard?" Peeta laughs. "I'm back to normal. Actually, my personality seems to have 'taken a turn for the dark and cynical', but I think that's an improvement. Life isn't all sunshine and rainbows, am I right?"

Coin purses her lips.

"Oh, and just don't mention anything that could paint Katniss in a bad light," Peeta adds, squeezing my hip. "You don't want me to have a flashback and try and kill her again."

Everyone sucks in a collective breath. No one seems to know how to react to this new, "dark and cynical" Peeta, and he looks like he loves it. The sight is bittersweet; it makes me ache for the old Peeta, my Peeta, but yet I also can't help but feel enraptured by this new persona. He is snarky and cocky and downright _rude_ in some cases, and it's so unlike what I'm used to that it's almost like entertainment.

Until I realize that there's still a part of him that wants me dead.

Sometimes.

"Well then, Mr. Mellark," Coin sighs, plastering a grim smile onto her face. "If you think you can control yourself, then by all means, stay."

Somehow, I am beginning to get the feeling that she does not value my life at all. But then again, I haven't lately either.

"Great!" Peeta removes his hands from the waists of Johanna and I to clap them together, and my skin burns where he touched it. I rub my fingers over the spot, but it does little to soothe the heat. I begin to wonder what I could do to get his hands on me again.

Coin brings Peeta up to speed, and I am surprised that he regards the news with seriousness. When she finishes, his first question is the same as Madge's.

"What does he look like?" he asks after she gives him the same answer. "Was he younger than me or about the same age?"

"I was not present at the time of his recovery, but the doctors say he looked young. Maybe fourteen or so. But he is very sickly, so that could play apart. As for other features, I was not informed. Once he is deemed well enough for visitors you are all welcome to pay him a visit."

It might sound heartless, but I have no desire to pay the boy a visit. I do not know him, and although his circumstances have been horrible, there is no need for me to go. But I will, because that is what is expected of me as the Mockingjay. I am sure the others will attend, and from the rapt looks on their faces I can sense that they might have even known him. My stomach turns as I think about just how many people the Capitol had under their claws.

Peeta bites his lip and looks to the ground, rubbing his wrists. I tentatively reach out and touch his arm.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not about to attack anyone, if that's what you're asking," he says drily. I roll my eyes.

"I meant with the news about the boy."

Peeta sighs and meets my eyes. "I don't know. There were others kept with us...in the same, I don't know, cell block? More like cage block, to be honest. I didn't know anyone besides Johanna and Annie- Madge was kept in a different area- but there were a few people around our age and younger whose parents were supposedly high-up Capitol officials who turned out to be rebel sympathizers. They treated those kids pretty badly, almost as bad as they treated us. Surprisingly, Madge got off easy."

I look over to her, scribbling in her notebook and showing her words to Gale. I'll never hear her voice again. _He'll_ never hear her voice again. And _she's_ the one who got off easy.

"Anyway, there was this one kid who I saw sometimes. Evan. Capitol kid, about fifteen or sixteen. His father was found giving supplies to rebels in Eight. He used to help me, in the beginning, when they first started their..._treatments_. He would talk to me once they threw me back into my cage and help me sort out the truth from the lies. They'd come in a beat some answers out of him sometimes, but nothing as terrible as what they did to Johanna and I...and Annie. Then one day they came in and grabbed him, and they dragged him out, kicking and screaming. I never saw him again." Peeta looked down at his shoes. "That's when their treatments really started to work."

"So-" My voice cracks, and I clear my throat. "So, do you think this might be him?"

"I hope that's it not. I hope that they killed him in one of those torture chambers like the dozens of other innocent people." Peeta cracks his neck and rolls his shoulders back. "Like I said the other day, Katniss; killing can be a kindness."

* * *

It should no longer come as a surprise to me that this universe does not bless us with kindnesses. Peeta was my one true kindness, and he was taken away. When it was revealed that the Capitol refugee was, in fact, Evan, Peeta retreated to his room and didn't come out for a long time. I was able to coax him to let me in, but the guards ushered me out when he started yelling. I could tell he felt bad; he wasn't yelling at me, or even about me, he was just upset about his friends. He came out of his room the next morning and apologized profusely to me, so genuinely that it was almost like my old Peeta was back.

His mood swings have been giving me whiplash.

Once Evan is treated for his ailments- dehydration, exposure, and wounds that never healed- the doctors begin analyzing him for any forms of psychosis. Peeta is extremely anxious throughout the whole process, always pacing outside of Evan's room as the doctors speak with him, constantly trying to get in to see him.

"Seeing him will help me," he tells me as we wait outside of Evan's room. He's not pacing, which is good, but he keeps taping his left foot against the floor. It's the third straight day of this, and Peeta still hasn't been allowed to see him. "He helped me sort out the truth from the lies before. He can do it now."

It seems that simply knowing that Evan is around has already helped him tremendously. I feel a twinge of jealousy when I think about it; they haven't even spoke and Peeta's moods have already improved. For the most part, at least. He gets frustrated at night, when he's tired. Sometimes he gets angry and lashes out. But he maintains his cool most of the time, and even though I wish it was me who was causing his improvement, I'm still thankful that it's happening at all.

Peeta stops tapping his foot when the door opens. One of Evan's doctors, a balding man with the palest complexion I've ever seen, emerges.

"Mr. Mellark," he says, smiling. "Would you like to speak with Evan?"

He doesn't need to be asked twice. Peeta lurches forward, only stopping in the doorway to look back at me. I give him a quick nod, and he disappears, shutting the door behind him.

_I wish the room had a two-way mirror._

"Unfortunately, Miss Everdeen," the doctor says, "only Mr. Mellark is allowed to see him at this time."

"That's fine," I mumble. I don't particularly care about meeting Evan. I'm thankful for what he was able to do for Peeta, but he was his friend, his ally. Not mine.

But I do care about what they did to him in the Capitol.

"How is he?" I ask.

The doctor- James Tier, according to his nametag- leans against the wall and flips open his file. "Physically? Still recovering but stable. Mentally? Very sound. Almost too sound for someone who had been tortured and held captive for an extended period of time."

I bite my lip. "Is that dangerous?"

"I highly doubt it," Dr. Tier says. "Slightly strange, but not bad, per se. We might need to monitor him a bit more. He could just be repressing his memories and feelings, which isn't uncommon at all."

I release a breath I didn't know I was holding. "So, it's safe for Peeta to be around him?"

Dr. Tier chuckles. "I think you should be more worried about the opposite."

I narrow my eyes. He stops his laughter abruptly and stands up straighter.

"My apologies, Miss Everdeen. That was a bad joke."

"Hmph," I grunt. "Tell Peeta that I'll see him for dinner."

"Of course."

I leave the hospital wing and try and convince myself that the weird sensation in my gut is just hunger, and not the eerie feeling that something bad might happen.

* * *

Peeta is late for dinner.

I look up from my meager ration of carrots to see him enter the dining hall, talking animatedly to a stick-thin young boy with a bandage covering half of his face.

"This is Evan," he says when he gets to the table, "for those of you who don't already know him."

"'Sup," Johanna says through a mouthful of bread. "I don't think we ever head the pleasure of meeting face to face. But I'd probably remember you if you starting crying."

To my surprise, Evan doesn't flinch. He doesn't even look hurt or shocked by her crass comment. Instead, he takes a seat right next to her and digs into his meal.

"Well, I certainly remember you guys," he says. "Johanna Mason. Annie Cresta. And you-" he points his spoon at Madge- "you're the daughter of the Mayor from Twelve. The one who couldn't control his people."

"You better watch your mouth you little shit," Gale snaps, drawing Madge close. Evan raises his hands in defense, but he doesn't look apologetic.

"Hey man, calm down. My dad was a fuck-up, too." Evan squints at Gale, studying his face. "Wait...are you Gale Hawthorne?"

Gale stiffens. "That depends."

"Relax, Gale," Peeta says, rolling his eyes. "Evan doesn't mean any harm."

"Honest." Evan starts eating again. "I'm just thankful to be out of there."

"How _did_ you get out?" Finnick asks.

"That's a tale for another time, Mr. Odair," he says with a chuckle. His eyes fall to me, and I still.

He is entirely too confident, too sure of himself for someone who had supposedly been at the hands of the Capitol monsters. It disturbs me, and I do not trust him at all, regardless of what Peeta says. Hell, I barely even trust him.

"Katniss Everdeen," he says, letting out a low whistle. "What an honor it is for me to meet you."

"Evan was your biggest supporter, Katniss," Peeta says. "He followed us through the Games and reminded me of what really happened after they force-fed me lies." He playfully jostles Evan's shoulder. "At least for a little while. They finally got to me. Now you have to help me not want to snap her neck sometimes."

If this is what they call joking, then I don't want to know what they think is serious. Peeta might be calm and teasing, but his mind is still in a dark place. If Evan's is equally twisted, they can only be harmful to each other.

"Actually, Peeta," Evan says, pushing his now-empty plate away from him, "there's something I have to tell you."

Peeta's smile falls. "What is it?"

"You see," Evan says with a yawn, "not everything I told you was true."

My blood runs cold. I can feel Gale's hand twitch towards his communicuff. Finnick leans forward, his eyes flitting back and forth between Evan and Peeta, watching both of them warily.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Peeta says, a bit frantically. His hands start to rub at his wrists. "What did you lie about?"

"Well, now that I think about it...Everything." Evan chuckles and dabs at his lips with a napkin. "I had to get you to trust me somehow, didn't I?"

"Evan..." Johanna says, inching away from him, "this isn't okay. Don't mess with his head."

"Don't you see? I'm trying to _fix_ him!" Evan puts a hand on Peeta's shoulder and leans in close. "Forget what I told you about her, Peeta. Everything they told you in the Capitol? That's all true. She's lied to you, she's manipulated you, she's left you to die. Hell, she's even tried to _kill_ you!"

"Peeta, no!" I shriek, jumping to my feet. Peeta is muttering to himself, rocking back and forth in his chair. "He's lying!"

Finnick stand and grabs Evan, yanking him to his feet and pinning his arms behind his back. Evan twists away, but Gale comes to Finnick's aid and together they render him immobile. They try and drag him away, catching the attention of everyone else in the hall. Thankfully, Peeta's old guards rush in and split up, one grabbing Evan and the other heading for Peeta. They don't cover his mouth in time, and so everyone hears Evan as he yells:

"She's the liar, Peeta! She's nothing but a disgusting mutt, a filthy whore who fucked you and then killed your baby!"

Evan bites the hand that covers his mouth, and when they pull back for a second he has just enough time to yell one more phrase.

"LONG LIVE THE CAPITOL!"

Peeta explodes. He lunges across the table at me with a strangled cry. I leap back out of his reach as his guard grabs the back of his arm and pins him to the table, furiously trying to secure his handcuffs as Peeta snarls and spits at me. He thrashes like a snake as he yells, and two more men appear out of nowhere to hold him down.

"YOU'RE A LIAR!" he shouts. "YOU'RE ALL LIARS. I'LL FUCKING KILL ALL OFF YOU!"

One man jabs a needle into his arm. His erratic movements fade but don't subside, and his voice doesn't lose its volume. Peeta stares me right in the eyes as they drag him away.

"_I'LL KILL YOU FIRST, YOU LYING CUNT. I'LL KILL YOU FIRST!_"

* * *

I fall asleep outside of Peeta's room, listening to him scream. The doctors were able to sedate him, but because of that he remains stuck in a state of nightmares, unable to wake up. He thrashes against his bindings while unconscious, cursing and crying out and threatening my life. I force my way up to his room and refuse to leave, and eventually passing out on the floor. When I wake up to Haymitch shaking my shoulder, my eyes are scratchy and my throat is raw. I must have been crying in my sleep.

"Is there any news?" I ask, hauling myself to my feet.

"Come on, sweetheart, let's get you back to your room," he says, taking my arm and guided my away. I plant my feet in the ground and refuse to move any further.

"Haymitch, tell me what is going on."

"I will. Let's just get you to your room first-"

"Haymitch, please." My voice cracks, and I think he hears the hysteria because he doesn't try to pull me any further.

"Alright," Haymitch sighs. He looks around, and ducks into an empty room. I follow, and he shuts the door behind us. "Just...try and stay calm, okay?"

I don't respond. My stomach is in knots, my hands are shaking. If I had anything in my system I probably would have vomited it back up already. Haymitch rubs his hands over his eyes.

"It seems that Evan was in league with the Capitol all along. He was planted in the cells in order to befriend Peeta; his dad wasn't a rebel sympathizer, he was one of Peeta's hijackers."

Haymitch doesn't give me time to process the information, he just keeps speaking, each word delivering an even heavier blow. "He was so dedicated to the cause that he took heavy beatings and succumbed to torture to make his position more believable. He even made the journey here in order to actually have the symptoms that he did.

" It seems that it was Snow's plan from the beginning to release Peeta back into our care; he knew that we would try to help him get better. He sent Evan to make sure that that wouldn't happen. His little mind trick caused a major regression for Peeta. After making so much progress only to be made to believe it was all a lie had devastating effects on his mind."

"So...w-what does that mean?" I squeak, and although I already know what he's going to say, when he speaks he sends my whole world crashing down.

"It means that Peeta's suffering from what the doctors are calling a re-hijacking. He's even worse than he was when he we first got him back. They don't...Katniss, they don't think he'll ever be okay again."

* * *

**As usual, I am overwhelmed by the amazing responses to the last two chapters. Thank you all so much for reading, and thanks to wollaston for being the best beta in the world. I'm 'ohalaskayoung' on tumblr if you guys ever have any questions or just want to chat. Again, thank you all _so much_ for reading. It means the world to me.**

**xoxo**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Four**.

I walk the halls like a ghost. I report to meals at the dining hall, I follow the schedule printed on my arm. I shoot propos and make small talk and count down the minutes in my head until I can crawl back into bed and forget about everything.

I haven't seen Peeta in weeks. After Haymitch informed me of his re-hijacking, I was forbidden to go near him. Not that I would want to. I hate myself for trusting him so easily, for letting my guard down. It only made it that much worse when my heart was shattered again.

When I hear that I haven't been included in the mission to the Capitol, I am furious. I corner Coin in Command and demand to be sent out with everyone else.

"Your job as the Mockingjay is done," she murmurs, barely paying any attention to me. "Perhaps, if things go as planned, you can be present for the surrender."

"I need to be there for the fighting! I'm your best shot!"

"But you don't care about the cause," Coin replies, finally sparing me one glance. "Ever since the incident with Mr. Mellark you have shown absolutely no emotion in any situation save for this one."

"Let me prove it to you," I say, swallowing my pride. "Please, President Coin. Let me train. I'll prove to you that I want to go."

She narrows her eyes and cocks her head. "Why do you want to go so badly, Miss Everdeen?"

I can't just say that I want to kill Snow, to end his life with my bare hand, to make him suffer for what he did to my friends, my people, to _Peeta_. So I give her another reason, one that is still true but does not burn as strongly in my heart as the first.

"Because of what he did to my district."

Coin takes a moment to think. "Fine. You have three weeks to train," she decides. "If the Assignment Board finds you acceptable, you'll ship out with Soldier Hawthorne and the rest of the task force."

It's my best option, so I take it gratefully. Afterwards, I find Johanna, who is, unsurprisingly, angry about something.

"They're kicking me out," she says, "and I can't go to the Capitol. This whole place is fucked up."

"What do you mean, 'kicking you out'?" I ask.

"Of the hospital," she explains. "Apparently I'm "stable" and can't have "access to any drugs". I've been given my own tiny room with no windows and no morphling drip. These people are trying to prolong my torture, not help me work through it."

"Well, I may have a solution for you." I explain to her what Coin told me about training. She is on board immediately.

"That's the first decent thing that woman has done," Johanna says. "Except for rescue us, I guess. But something tells me she wasn't the one pulling the reins on that one."

"The feeling is mutual," I say. "Also, there's another idea I want to run by you."

I move into Johanna's room that night, and we report to training at 7:30 the next morning. It's absolutely brutal- hours of strengthening exercises and a five mile run- and to make matters worse, we're in a class with fourteen-year-olds, and they do better than us.

The next morning we're barely able to drag ourselves out of bed, our muscles screaming in protest with each movement. Johanna freezes when she sees that it's raining outside.

"Come on," I say, trekking through the mud. "It's just water."

She sets her jaw and squares her shoulders before stomping forward. The rain drenches us as we work through the course, and when I glance over at her I can see her bottom lip trembling. When we break for lunch she can barely hold any of it down. We return to the field and practice assembling our guns. Even with her shaking hands, Johanna manages to put hers together perfectly. It seems to calm her.

When we get back to our room I hop into the shower and rinse the mud from my body. I emerge to find Johanna peering through the top drawer of my small dresser. She slams it shut when I make my presence known, looking guilty.

"It's fine," I tell her. "You can look." I have nothing to hide, anyway.

Johanna sheepishly opens the drawer again, rummaging through my few trinkets. I realize then that she has nothing to call her own. The thought pains me more than I thought it would.

"Find anything interesting?" I ask as I comb through my hair. She shuts the drawer.

"Nope. You're pretty boring, Brainless." I chuckle, and she opens another drawer.

"Oh, yeah? What should I have in there to spice things up?"

"I don't know." She pulls out my father's hunting jacket. "Don't you have any toys?"

I resist the urge to grab the jacket out of her hands, instead letting her admire it for a few seconds. "Toys? How old do you think I am, Johanna?"

She puts the jacket back, and I sigh in relief.

"Not children's toys, Brainless. Sex toys."

I blanch. "W-what are you talking about? Why would I- How could I- Wha-?"

Johanna bursts out laughing, grabbing her sides. "You are too easy, Brainless," she wheezes.

I narrow my eyes. "Well, I'm glad I can be so amusing."

"It's really quite a blessing." Johanna straightens up and wipes at her eyes. "But seriously, you've never used a sex toy? Do they have them in District Twelve?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I insist, focusing on twisting my hair into a braid and trying to fight off the blush that spreads across my skin whenever someone brings up that sort of topic.

"How do you get off, then? Fingers work just fine, I guess, but I prefer my little vibrating friend over anything else." Johanna sighs wistfully. "I wish I could've taken it with me."

"Are you...are you talking about masturbation?" I ask, my voice dropping to a whisper. I had heard some girls in school talk about it a long time ago, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't interest me. But I had no time to think of such things back then.

"_Yes_, Brainless," Johanna says, rolling her eyes. "Seriously, are you doing this on purpose? You're setting yourself up here."

"Whatever, Johanna. I'm going to bed." I switch off the light and slip under the covers of my bed. Johanna groans and disappears into the bathroom. She leaves the door open a crack so I can hear her speak as she cleans herself with a damp cloth.

"Honestly, Katniss. If you are ever in need of a stress reliever, I'd give it a try."

"_Goodnight, Johanna._"

She snickers to herself as she emerges from the bathroom and flops onto her bed. "Night, Brainless."

We lay in silence for a few minutes, and I'm just drifting off when her voice jolts me back into consciousness.

"Have you seriously never-"

"_JOHANNA!_"

* * *

We throw ourselves into the next two weeks of training with vigor. We complete challenges, obstacle courses, simulations. I can feel my body getting stronger, and I can't say that I don't like the feeling. At the end of training, we are put through the toughest simulation yet, one set to attack our weaknesses. Mine was the inability to follow orders. I realized it just in time, and was able to pass.

Johanna wasn't so lucky.

Her weakness was water. I found out that in the Capitol it was what they used to torture her. They'd hold her down in a tank and shock her with wires, or strap blocks to her ankles and toss her into a pool just deep enough so that her eyes broke the surface but not her nose or mouth. They even used a technique they called "water boarding", strapping her to a table and placing a cloth over her face and then soaking it to simulate drowning. In her simulation, they flooded the street. Johanna had some sort of flashback and couldn't complete the test.

I tried to comfort her afterwards, but she wouldn't even look at me. She just sat on her bed, facing the wall, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Finnick informs that we leave the next morning. Knowing that I won't have another opportunity, I stop and grab some white cotton bandages that I had brought with me from Twelve and escape to the woods. I find a pine tree and strip the needles from the boughs, wrapping them together with the bandages and making a small bundle about the size of my fist.

"Johanna," I say gently when I return to our room. I hold the bundle out to her, and she must catch the scent, because she turns around quickly.

"What is that?" Her voice is hoarse from crying, and she takes it from me with trembling hands. I sink down onto the mattress and place a tentative arm over her shoulders.

"I made it for you. Something to make your drawers interesting."

She presses it to her nose and inhales deeply. Her eyes well up and when she speaks her voice is thick with emotion. "It smells like home."

"I'm gla-"

She throws her arms around me and crushes me to her in an iron grip. "You have to kill him, Katniss," she whispers into my hear. "Promise me."

"I promise," I say fiercely, gripping her just as tight. She releases me and holds me at arm's length, her wide-set eyes staring deep into my gray ones.

"And come back alive," she says. "You're...you're my best friend, Brainless."

I don't expect to tear up as well, but I do. "I will," I say. "You're mine, too, Jo."

She chokes out something between a laugh and a sob and gently shoves me away. "Now get to bed," she commands. "You've got a big, big day ahead of you."

* * *

Our squad is made up of five soldiers from Thirteen as well as Finnick and Gale. Boggs's second-in-command is a middle-aged woman named Jackson, and then there are twin sisters, who we call Leeg 1 and Leeg 2. Also on the squad are Mitchell and Holmes, two older men who don't say much of anything but are excellent shots. We are Squad 451, according to Boggs, and we have been selected for a special mission.

This special mission, much to Gale's dismay, just means that we'll be the faces of the invasion, used for on-screen purposes and seeing no real combat. or rather, nothing that could be an actual threat to the mission. It doesn't faze me; all I need is a ride to the Capitol and I'm gone.

Our hovercraft takes us to Twelve, where we hop onto cargo cars packed with other soldiers. We travel for a few days before disembarking inside one of the mountain tunnels and traveling on foot for the rest of the journey. When the reach the rebel encampment, a stretch about a dozen blocks long right outside of the train station where Peeta and I arrived for our first Games, it's already filled with soldiers. They've secured the area, pushing out the Peacekeepers and the Capitol forces to a space across the city, and the area they call "No Man's Land" is wrought with booby traps just waiting to be sprung.

We're there for a week, filming propos and trying to throw the Capitol off our scent. We make small ventures out into No Man's Land, disarming some of the traps and assembling ones of our own. Boggs explains to Gale, Finnick, and I the purpose of the Holos, meant to explode and destroy everything in its path if we repeat the words "nightlock" three times. It is unanimously understood that we would all say the phrase in the event of capture.

One morning, Leeg 2 accidentally triggers one of the booby traps. She's dead before the dust settles, her body pierced at all different angles by tiny little daggers. Boggs promises us a replacement by that evening.

"Do you think he really got someone?" Gale asks me as we head back to camp. I shrug, not too concerned. Finnick jogs up to us and claps us on the shoulder.

"Boggs said we got a shipment of supplies. You want to come with me to get it?"

"Why not?" I have nowhere else to be. We jog in the opposite direction of our tents, back to the station. I look to Gale and realize how long it's been since we've actually spoken. "How are you doing?"

He shifts closer to me as we move. "I'm keeping it together. It's tough being away from Madge, you know?"

"I know." I think of Prim, my mother, Johanna. Peeta. "But at least she's safe."

"That's what I keep telling myself," he says. "But after everything that's happened, I can't seem to shake the feeling that something bad is going to happen to her."

"Gale, I-"

"Oh, shit!" Finnick exclaims.

I look away from Gale and towards the train station. Instead of our shipment, Peeta is standing there, leaning against the side of the station and picking at his nails. He looks up as we approach, and I take in his appearance. Relaxed stance. No shackles on his wrists. He seems harmless, but I know better. He steps out of the shadows and I freeze.

"Long time no see," he says, adjusting the gun strapped to his shoulder.

* * *

I am coerced out of my tent by Finnick, who promises to stay by my side the whole time. The night is pitch black, without a single star in the sky, only illuminated by the light of the roaring fire we have in the middle of our camp. I sit in between Finnick and Gale, unabashedly staring at Peeta, who sits on the other side of the fire. Through the flames, his face looks like it's covered in blood.

"Apparently they sent him through training the day we left," Finnick tells me. "Coin was planning this, she had to be."

"It wouldn't surprise me." The fact that he's here, staring back at me, confirms my earlier suspicions: that I'm of more use to her dead than alive.

"Now, don't freak out on me, Katniss, but I think you should talk to him."

My head snaps around so fast that my braid smacks against Gale's neck, and I hear him hiss. "Are you serious?"

"I think it would be good for him," Finnick insists. "I've been thinking about it a lot. He's obviously in somewhat decent shape if they sent him here."

My face must show my reservations, because he rolls his eyes and hauls himself to his feet. He extends a hand to me, but I don't take it.

"Maybe he's right," Gale mutters. He's rubbing his neck with a grimace. "It helped before, didn't it?"

"Before there was hope of him getting better," I protest. "Haymitch said-"

"Forget what Haymitch said," Finnick says with a heavy sigh. "Right now, what matters is what you say."

Begrudgingly, I take his hand, and he helps me to my feet. The three of us round the side of the fire and approach Peeta, who has been given a wide berth by the other soldiers. He stares us down as we approach, but doesn't say anything.

Gale speaks first.

"Still traveling with the metal, huh?"

I look down, and clipped to his belt are his shackles. His fingers trace them, then go to his wrists.

"They're too be used at my discretion," Peeta tells him. Hearing his voice after so long makes my heart lurch. "I put them on when I feel myself loosing it. They bring me back."

"We want to help you," Finnick says. "If we can't be friends, we might as well be allies."

"Just like old times." Peeta laughs mirthlessly. "Allies, huh?"

"All of us," I say, feeling the need to emphasize my involvement.

"Ally..." Peeta says the word slowly, as if it were in a foreign tongue. "Friend. Lover. Victor. Enemy. Fiancée. Target. Mutt. Neighbor. Hunter. Tribute. Ally."

"Only seven of those are true." I don't clarify which ones.

"See, with you being all cryptic like that, I can't tell what's real and what's not."

"You should ask," Finnick says. "That's what Annie does. Trust us to give you the honest answer."

Peeta mulls it over for a minute, and then surprises me with his first question.

"Your favorite color...it's green, right?"

"Yes," I say. "Yours is orange."

"Orange?" he asks dubiously.

"Like the sunset," I clarify. "You told me that on our Victory Tour."

"Oh." His voice takes on a softer tone, and the hardness in his eyes dissipates. "Thank you, Katniss."

I don't know what triggers it. Perhaps it's because it is the first kind phrase he has uttered to me in a long time and I find myself craving more. Words tumble out of my mouth before I can stop them.

"You're a painter. You're a baker. You like to sleep with the windows open. You never take sugar in your tea. And you always double-knot your shoelaces."

Peeta stares at me, wide-eyed and his mouth hanging open. It seems that I've shocked all three of them. The feeling is overwhelming, and I turn around and sprint back to my tent before I can do something stupid like cry or kiss him.

* * *

"If you make a sound, I'll snap your neck right here."

I jolt awake to find Peeta looming over me, one hand clamped over my mouth and the other locked around my throat.

"Do you understand me, Katniss?"

I nod. It seems to appease him, and he yanks me to my feet. The second I am steady I try to swing at him, but the hand that was on my throat catches my arm before it can make contact with his face. I register the cool metal of his shackles being slapped around my wrist, and then I am bound.

"You have some fucking nerve," he hisses as he drags me from the tent. He leads me through the camp, shoving me forward with every step, his hand still covering my mouth. We pass Finnick's tent, then Gale's, then Boggs's. My heart breaks a little more as we pass each one and no one wakes.

"You have some fucking nerve," he repeats. "What are you playing at, huh?"

I am unable to respond, but it doesn't seem to bother him. He drags me from the camp, in the direction of where we first came, but not back down the mountain trails. He blindfolds me with a strip of fabric just as we leave the camp, and I don't fight him. I don't know long we walk, but when we finally stop I can feel the rays of the early morning sun on my skin.

The entire walk Peeta has been arguing with himself, increasing my level of panic exponentially. One minute he is cursing me and threatening my life and the next he is snapping at himself, telling himself how wrong he was for doing this. I am simply dragged along- literally. I stumble and fall at one point, and he grabs the chain of my shackles and pulls me along for a few yards before allowing me to stand again.

Peeta suddenly shoves me to the right. The grass under my feet turns into something harder, some kind of pavement. I walk forward a few paces and then am yanked to a stop. Peeta turns me around so he can lead, and pulls me forward again. This time, I'm walking backwards, and I try twice as hard not to fall. Being dragged on grass is one thing, but being dragged on pavement would be awful.

He took his hand off of my mouth a few hours ago, but I didn't bother screaming. I knew no one would hear me. Plus, Peeta did enough talking for the both of us. But when I hear the squeak of a door opening, I jump.

"Peeta? Peeta, where are we?"

The cloth is ripped from my eyes and I blink, furiously trying to adjust to the light. We're in a house, nicer than my one in the Seam but not nearly as fancy as the one in Victor's Village. I barely get a chance to study it before he's steering me down the hallway, past the kitchen and the living room and into the first room he sees. It turns out to be a bathroom, and he groans in frustration and shoves me back out. The next room is a bedroom, and I suddenly know where this is going.

"Peeta, stop," I say. "This isn't you. This isn't what you want."

"On the contrary." Peeta shoves me onto the bed and climbs on top of me. His entire weight presses me down, and he grabs my hands and pins them above me. My thoughts flash briefly to a time when a girl came to visit my mother, shaken and bruised and unable to stop crying. She spoke of a man who broke into her house one night and did the same to her, right on her bed. She was terrified that she'd end up pregnant and begged my mother for treatment.

_Would Peeta rape me?_

He frees my left hand, but before I can move the metal is clamped around it again. I tug experimentally and find that he slipped the cuffs between the wrought iron posts of the bed. Peeta slips off of me, and my fear is momentarily quelled, but then I see him produce two long strips of rope from a pouch in his belt.

"No!" I scream, kicking out at him. "Don't you dare, Peeta! Don't you fucking dare! Let me out of here!"

He snickers as he dodges my first kick. The second finds purchase on the side of his jaw, and I relish at the sound of the smack and the way his head twists around. He fixes me with a glare, and swiftly pins my legs to the bed and winds the rope around him. My anger fades into hysteria.

"Peeta, please don't do this," I beg as he fastens my bindings. "Just let me go know and we can go back to the camp. I won't tell anyone, I promise."

He doesn't say anything. Once I am thoroughly immobilized he disappears from the room and comes back carrying an old wooden chair. He places it by the side of the bed and takes a seat.

"Look at us," he says fondly. "Back to square one."

"_Peeta_," I sob, desperately and futilely trying to break free. "Don't do this to me. I'll do anything."

"No, you won't," he says with a frown. "If you were willing to do anything, we wouldn't be in this position. All you want to do, Katniss, is confuse me."

"That's not true-"

"YES IT IS!" He slams his hand down on the mattress, and the bed squeaks. "And you're going to stop that unless you want to suffer some more."

Peeta stands abruptly and storms away, slamming the door behind him. My shaking subsides once he's gone, and I try to reign in my sobs. I can't hear him, which I take as a good sign. But it doesn't calm my worries, because I am stilled tied to the bed and he still wants me dead and no one knows where we are.

I try to keep myself awake and alert, but it is no use. A wave of fatigue hits me like a freight train; I realize how long it's been since I've slept. Already I find myself drifting out of consciousness.

As I succumb to sleep, I am able to form one clear thought.

_I am going to die here._

* * *

"Wake up."

Peeta shakes me roughly and I jolt awake. My arms and neck are stiff and there's a foul taste in my mouth. I feel panic start to rise in me again when I realize that I'm still restrained, but it is quickly replaced by annoyance.

"Good morning to you, too," I snap. Peeta arches an eyebrow.

"That attitude is back, I see."

"What exactly do you plan on accomplishing here?" I ask, shifting around, trying to get comfortable. The bed squeaks with each movement, and I can see it starting to irritate him. Good.

"I have a messed up head, Katniss," he says, running a hand through his hair. The bed squeaks again, and he twitches. "Very messed up."

"So I've noticed."

"It's your fault."

_Squeak._

"No, it's not."

_Squeak._

"You never told me the truth-"

_Squeak._

"It was Evan who didn't tell you the truth, Peeta. I've given you honest answers to every question you've asked."

_Squeak._

"Would you stop moving for _one fucking second_?" he yells, turning around and slapping his hands against the wall. "I can barely hear myself think!"

I smirk but still my movements. He's breathing heavily, his back still to me. I don't know what has gotten into me to want to rile him up while I'm in such a vulnerable state. Perhaps I've lost my last shred of self-preservation. Maybe I'm the crazy one here.

"You were saying?"

Peeta takes a deep breath before turning around. He strides forward and perches himself on the edge of the bed, right between my legs. "I want the truth. I want straight answers, no bullshitting around the question."

"And why should I help you, Peeta?"

"Because you love me. Because you're scared of me."

"I did love you. Once." I hold my head high, or as high as I can since I'm still tied down. "But not anymore. I don't love this Peeta, and I'm certainly not scared of him."

He sees through my lie and releases a grim chuckle."Oh, really, Katniss?"

His hand moves for my throat, and I gasp and twitch away. He laughs and drops his hand, and I curse my body for its reaction, but I can't deny that my heart rate rose considerably.

"Fuck off, Peeta," I groan. "If you want me to help you, you're going to have to give me some incentive because at this point I'd rather let you kill me."

"I won't be killing you, Katniss," he says. "I thought we discussed this a long time ago."

Peeta reaches down and takes a hold of the thin bed sheet. He rips off a thin strip and pulls it at both ends, testing his strength.

"What are you going to do with that?" I ask. He looks up and smirks.

"Don't worry about it, Katniss. All you need to do is answer my questions. Is that so hard?"

"You'd be surprised..."

Peeta yanks the strip of fabric again. "Let's begin."

The first question already has me uncomfortable. "Why did you kill our baby?"

"There was no baby, Peeta," I say. "You made it up to shock the Capitol."

"Oh, so _I'm _the liar now?"

"I didn't say that," I groan, rolling my eyes. "Just trust me. There was no baby."

"Fine." He bites his lip and studies me warily. "What about the nights on the train?"

I flush. "What about them?"

"What did we do?"

"We slept together- we _just_ slept together. Nothing else."

Peeta smirks. "Is that so?"

"_Yes_," I emphasize. He shakes his head slowly, clucking his tongue.

"You know, I can't say that I believe you."

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, Peeta," I spit. "Believe me or don't; that's your choice. But it's only you and me right now and I'm not the one who's crazy, so you might want to think about it."

Peeta stares at me for a long time, then lunges forward suddenly. His weight on my body makes me cry out, and when my mouth opens he shoves the cloth inside. I thrash around, trying to spit it out, but it's no use. He ties it around the back of my head and sit backs with a satisfied smile.

"There," he says. "I was getting tired of your backtalk."

"Phhmm," I try to say, knowing it's useless. "Phhmm, dmm-"

Peeta lunges forward again and grabs a fistful of my hair. I yelp against the cloth and he brings his face directly in front of mine, so close that our eyelashes almost touch when he blinks.

"Here's how it's going to go," he hisses. "I'm going to ask a question. You're going to nod your head for 'yes' and shake your head for 'no', and that's it. No bullshit. No games. Got it?"

I don't want to give in, but I can feel my hair ripping from my scalp and the tears welling up in my eyes, so I nod once. He lets me go, almost shoving himself away from me, and I release one sob in relief.

"Now," he says, cracking his knuckles. "Was there a baby?"

I shake my head.

"Did I create a rumor that there was?"

I nod.

"Was it to protect me?"

I shake my head.

"To protect you?"

I nod.

Peeta scoffs. "Of course it was."

I don't move. He is muttering to himself now, rubbing at his wrists. Just as I am about to do something- grunt at him, wiggle around, anything- he snaps back to attention.

"Now, what about the train? Did we sleep together?"

I shake my head furiously. A grin stretches across his face.

"But something _did_ happen, didn't it?"

My eyes widen, and he seems to relish in my reaction.

"What happened Katniss? Did I touch you?"

It feels like every inch of my skin is burning. I shake my head, but he holds up his hands.

"Did you touch me?"

I shake my head again, and his brow furrows.

"_Don't lie,_" he growls. "I know something happened. I can see it in your eyes. You're blushing, and I'll bet anything your heart is beating so fast you're scared it's going to burst through your chest."

Peeta leans forward and extends his arm. His hand comes to rest on my chest, just over my left breast, where he can clearly feel my heart, beating just like he said. His wolfish grin intensifies.

"See? There's no point in lying to me, Katniss. Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

I turn my head, refusing to meet his gaze. I feel his fingers dance on my throat but I still won't turn my head. _I won't answer him. I won't give him the satisfaction. I w-_

His hand captures my chin and jerks it upwards, forcing me to look up at him and making the cloth chafe uncomfortably on the dry skin of my mouth.

Peeta sighs. "You know, I didn't think it was going to come to this."

I don't like the look in his eyes. I strain to speak against the cloth, but he doesn't remove it. Instead, his hand slowly moves up my leg. I try to ignore the path of fire he leaves in his wake, but it's so present that all I can do is wish for more. He stops on my upper thigh, his thumb tracing circles on the fabric of my pants.

"I'm afraid-"

My eyes widen as his hand moves up and pops open the button of my pants.

"You've given me-

I stay deathly still as he pulls down the zipper ever so slowly.

"No other choice, Katniss."

His index finger traces the band of my underwear. I groan against the cloth, and I don't know if it's in protest or appreciation. Peeta looks up at me and winks.

"It seems that I'm going to have to resort to other tactics."

* * *

**This chapter was way longer than anticipated, but I couldn't bring myself to cut it in half. The smut starts next chapter, I promise!**

**Props go out to wollaston, the best beta ever, for pre-reading this chapter.**

**I'm 'ohalaskayoung' on tumblr if you guys have any questions or just want to chat. Thank you all so much for reading!**

**xoxo**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Five.**

_His index finger traces the band of my underwear. I groan against the cloth, and I don't know if it's in protest or appreciation. Peeta looks up at me and winks._

_"It seems that I'm going to have to resort to other tactics."_

Peeta moves his finger just an inch or two south and presses down. My body lurches, and he grins with a look of wicked satisfaction.

"That's the spot, isn't it?"

I don't answer. I bite down hard on my lower lip, using the pain the distract me from the pleasure blooming in my center as he starts rubbing in small circles on my clit. I can feel the moisture pooling in my underwear, and when I see his eyes widen, I know he's noticed it, too.

"Do you like that, Katniss?"

Narrowing his eyes, he reaches up and yanks the gag from my mouth. "I asked you if you like it, Katniss."

I stay silent.

Peeta reaches into his back pocket and produces a small pocket knife. He swiftly cuts a slit in the side of my pants and rips them open with ease. I gasp.

"Wouldn't it be easier for you just to untie me?" I finally say as he removes the fabric from my legs. "Then you wouldn't have wasted the only pair of pants I have."

"Now where's the fun in that?" Peeta smirks, and runs the hilt of the knife over my clit. It isn't hard enough to hurt but it's hard enough my make my heart stutter. "And trust me, Katniss, you're not going to be needing pants for a while."

"Peeta, this is unnecessary. You don't have to do this."

"Don't be scared, Katniss." Peeta starts rubbing me again. "I've already told you that I don't want to kill you."

"I'm not scared of you," I say.

"I know that." Peeta slips his fingers around the band of my underwear. "You're scared of what I'm going to do to you. You're scared of what I'm going to make you feel."

He starts to pull my underwear down, and I try to snap my legs shut, but I can barely move.

"Don't, Peeta."

He stops, and I immediately regret what I thought before; Peeta wouldn't rape me. There's still something in there, remnants of my thoughtful, kind Peeta that would never do something as vile as that.

"Why not, Katniss?" Peeta says. "You're obviously enjoying this. I can feel how wet you are. It's seeping through your underwear."

As if to prove his point, he slips his fingers underneath the fabric and presses them against my sex. The contact sends a jolt through me, and when he pulls away I can see the tips of his fingers glistening with my arousal.

"All I want is answers, Katniss. You weren't compliant originally, and so now I'm trying a new method, and I'm sure this one is going to have better results."

Peeta dips inside my underwear again, this time touching my clit directly.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks, pinching it lightly. "Tell me to stop and I will, Katniss."

I want to. I want to scream at him to stop and kick him and punch him until I'm satisfied. But I can't ignore the goosebumps dancing across my flesh and Peeta continues to work my clit, the heat moving through my body as a result of his movements.

"Do you want me to stop?" Peeta asks again.

I shake my head. He grins, and when he drags my underwear down my legs, I don't try to stop him.

He slips his middle finger inside of me and starts moving it in and out, slowly, gauging my reaction. He keeps rubbing my clit, alternating between slow and hard circles. It feels amazing, and I am racing towards the edge. He adds a second finger, and the feeling of him stretching me pushes me over the edge. Just as the first wave of pleasure hits, he stops.

"No!" I shout, hating how needy I sound. "Don't- don't stop."

"As you wish."

He works me again, but just as before, he stops his movements right as I am about to reach my release.

"Please," I beg, "just let me come, Peeta."

"Are you going to tell me, Katniss?" Peeta asks, curling his fingers inside of me. I arch my back and cry out as he hits a spot that makes my entire body tingle. "I'm not going to let you come until you tell me."

"What?" I gasp. A thin sheen of sweat has broken out across my forehead, and my heart is pounding.

"Tell me the truth about the train," Peeta says. "Tell me about the train and I'll let you come." His thumb flicks my clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of my heat, and I crumble.

"Okay!" I yell, and he stops. I slump back against the pillows and try to ignore the throbbing between my legs. "Okay. I'll tell you."

_It was the night before they were set to arrive in District Four for that lap of the Victory Tour. I was awake before Peeta for once, and it wasn't the result of nightmares._

_At some point during the night, Peeta had rolled onto his side and threw his arm around my waist. I didn't mind that- I liked the warmth his embrace gave. But this time, I woke to something stiff pressing into my thigh._

Oh.

_I had no idea what to do. I'd heard of this happening, but for some reason I never expected for Peeta to behave like an average teenage boy, even if it was an involuntary bodily function. Perhaps it was because he was so unlike any boy I had met before, perhaps it was because I didn't want him to be. Regardless, I was very much touching a very private- and very erect- part of his anatomy, and even though it was between a layer of his clothing and mine, it still scared me shitless._

_I was trying to figure out a way to extricate myself without waking Peeta up when he moved, and the bulge in his flannel pajama pants caught the bottom of my nightgown, pushing it upwards and exposing my skin. Peeta released a deep, guttural moan at the contact, and I gasped. His eyes didn't open, so I prayed that he was still asleep. The situation was awkward enough without him waking up; he would be mortified._

_As terrified as I was by the whole situation, I was also intrigued. He was so hard it must have been painful, and just knowing he was touching me sent a rush of heat between my legs. He moved again, just a fraction of an inch, and moaned my name. _

_"Oh, Katniss."_

_He was dreaming of me. He was turned on and dreaming of me. He was having a sex dream about me._

_He wanted to have sex with me._

_The realization sent a jolt through me. Before I could move, before I could roll out of his grasp and get out of bed and calm down, he pulled me closer and grinded into my thigh again, a lot harder this time. I shifted at the last second, and his hardness briefly pressed against the hot space at the apex of my thighs._

_"Oh!" I gasped. The contact was brief but wonderful. Desperate for another taste, I slowly lifted my leg so it straddled his waist. When he pitched forward again, his stiff cock rubbed right against my clit."Fuck!"_

_My hand flew to cover my mouth, scared that my outburst had woken him. But Peeta remained asleep, and his thrusts started to increase in frequency. I was matching him now, arching my hips so our sexes met with each movement. The friction felt so unbelievably amazing that I started to wonder how I went without it for so long. _

_"Katniss," he groaned again._

_"Oh, Peeta," I whimpered back, even though he couldn't hear me._

_Something was building inside of me, a tingling warmth focused at my clit but radiating down my legs to the tips of my toes, up and all over my body. My breaths started coming in short pants. I felt myself winding tighter and tighter, waiting to snap, but I didn't._

_I exploded._

_It took every ounce of willpower I had not to scream as loudly as I could. Instead I bit my lip and came with a muffled cry, riding out my orgasm against Peeta's still hard cock. He came seconds after I did, tensing and groaning as he released. I felt a warm wetness through his pajama shorts, but I didn't care; my thighs were sticky with my own arousal. I collapsed on top of his chest, exhausted and extremely sated._

_I was still catching my breath when I felt him jolt awake. I immediately closed my eyes and feigned sleep, hoping he wouldn't see through my ruse. Peeta's hands came around my back, touching me gently and verifying that I was actually there. Then he stiffened. _

_"Shit," he hissed. "Oh, no, no, no, no. Damn it!"_

_Peeta carefully slid me off of him, and I heard him almost fly out of bed and into the bathroom. The water started running almost immediately, and I laid there until he came out, clad in a fresh pair of sleep pants and red faced. I pretended to wake up then, and he stuttered out an excuse about needing to go to the bathroom before I could even say a word. He looked so flustered that I just nodded and asked him if he was ready to go get breakfast. _

_As time went on, I realized how foolish it was. He could've woken up and found me practically taking advantage of him- which was wrong in itself- and then where would we be? With that thought in mind, I decided to never breathe a word of that moment to him or anyone else as long as I was alive._

_But that didn't mean I couldn't think about it. Every single day. _

Peeta slowly rubs my clit while I speak, keeping me stimulated but not close to coming. It's still enough to make me lose my focus at times, but all it takes is a loss of pressure for me to snap back and continue. When I finish my story, Peeta increases the speed of his hand, and soon I am at the precipice. I barely notice the distracted look in his eyes. Just as I am about to release, his hand snaps back and he jump to his feet.

"Peeta!" I exclaim, and the undisguised longing in my voice shocks me.

"I- I don't-" He looks torn between coming back to me and running for the hills. "I'm not sure..."

"What is it?" I ask him. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't tell me. Peeta barely spares me one last glance before running out the door, leaving me, exposed from the waist down and bound to the bed with an uncomfortable throbbing between my thighs.

* * *

_At The Rebel Camp_

Gale is the first to wake. He groggily climbs out of his tent to the makeshift facilities to wash his face and go to the bathroom. On his way, he stops by Katniss's tent.

"Psst," he hisses. "Catnip?"

No answer.

He peeks inside and finds empty space. Shrugging, he figures that she is already awake. She normally woke before him anyway, and always beat him to the woods.

Gale freshens up and returns to the camp. The rest of Squad 451 is up, some heading to the facilities and others lacing up their boots. Gale scans their faces.

"Where's Katniss?" he asks.

"She didn't go with you?" Finnick yawns, running a hand through his unruly bronze hair. "I thought you two went to wash up since you're the only ones insane enough to wake up before the asscrack of dawn."

Gale ignores the joke. "She wasn't with me."

Boggs approaches them. "Have any of you seen Mellark? He isn't in his tent."

Gale's heart lurches. "Oh, shit."

* * *

Peeta doesn't return for hours. In his absence, I have managed to cover myself with one of my pillows, which only took an hour of stretching, turning, and biting. When he finally reappears, I am achy, starving, and furious.

"_How dare you_?" I hiss when he opens the door. "How dare you violate me? Try to manipulate me? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Testy, are we?" He is carrying a tray with something steaming on it. When he places it on the bed, I can see that he has made two bowls of tomato soup.

"Testy doesn't begin to cover it," I snap. "You have some fucking nerve, using me like that. Are you trying to fulfill some sick fantasy or something?"

"If I recall," Peeta says calmly, taking his bowl, "you were more than enthusiastic."

"That doesn't make it any less fucked up."

"Are you just mad because you didn't come?" He slurps his soup and smacks his lips. "Because we can rectify that later, if you'd like."

I hate this. I hate his mood swings. I hate his dumb, cocky persona. I hate that I'm helpless. I hate that, to some extent, he's right.

"So, how am I supposed to eat this?" I say, trying to change the subject. "Are you going to untie me?"

"Of course not!" Peeta laughs. "Maybe later, when I'm sure that I can trust you. But for now, you're staying right where you are."

"Perfect," I mutter.

"Here." Peeta puts down his bowl and takes mine, lifting the spoon to my mouth. "Try it."

I reluctantly open my mouth and slurp the soup. It's burning hot, and I swallow quickly, trying not to wince as it burns my throat.

"Oh, is it too hot?" Peeta asks. I shake my head, but instead of giving me another spoonful he lifts it to his mouth and blows gently.

If I hadn't been watching carefully, I would've mistaken the gesture for something sweet, something my Peeta would've done. But this Peeta, this manipulative, cold, sarcastic Peeta did it as a joke. As he blew, his lips twisted up in a smirk and his eyes gleamed, as if he were holding back laughter. As if he were placating an annoying child.

"Where did you get this stuff, anyway?" I ask after swallowing the spoonful.

"It was in the house," Peeta answers. "They must have evacuated the area, or just been killed. Either way, all of the people are gone."

The thought makes my stomach turn, and I have to fight to keep down the little soup I have consumed.

"What District are we in?"

"The outskirts of Two, I believe. Their version of the Seam." Peeta stops, then chuckles to himself. "Huh. Their Seam is twice as nice as our Town."

"Must be nice," I murmur.

"Must be," he agrees.

We eat in silence. He alternates between feeding himself and feeding me, treating me like an infant every time he goes to give me a spoonful of soup. He even pretends his hand is a hovercraft, and makes stupid noises as he goes to "land" in my mouth.

"This doesn't have to be so bad, Katniss," he once we're done eating. "They could even be..._pleasurable_."

"Don't even _think_ of doing anything like that again," I snap. "I don't care that I consented to it. I was confused, and I was wrong."

"Aw, don't say that." Peeta pretends to pout. "Wasn't I any good?"

Rage sparks in my chest, and I have to fight the urge to snap at him like a wild dog.

"I'm not going to give in to you," I growl.

Peeta's eyes darken. "We'll see, Katniss. We'll see."

* * *

_At the Rebel Camp_

"President Coin says no."

Gale curses and stomps his foot. Boggs raises his hands in defense.

"Hey, I tried," Boggs says. "I wanted to rally a small search party that wouldn't be devastating to our force. We could've gotten them back in a day, tops. But President Coin doesn't want to waste the time or energy. She says that we must continue with our mission with or without them."

"But she's the Mockingjay!" Gale exclaims. "That has to count for something, doesn't it?"

"I wish," Boggs sighs. "If it were up to me, we'd already be out looking for them. They aren't just symbols, they're people."

"If only our great President could see things the same way," Gale spits out, pacing back and forth. "Shit, doesn't she realize that he could kill her? That he could have killed her already?"

"Actually," Finnick pipes up. "I don't think that's the case."

"Are you serious?" Gale explodes. "You don't think that's the case?"

"Honestly, no." Finnick moves closer and lowers his voice so they aren't overheard by the other soldiers who have not-so-inconspicuously gathered around. "I don't think he wants to hurt her."

"Listen, pretty boy-"

"Let him finish," Boggs hisses.

"From what I understand, Peeta just wants some answers," Finnick explains. "He might be- okay, he _is_- a little confused on how to get them, but his intentions are pure. Or rather, they don't come from a place of bloodshed and torture."

Gale rolls his eyes. "So, what do you suppose we do? Wait it out and see what happens? Forget about them?"

"_No_," Finnick says, gritting his teeth. "But I think that it might be good for them to talk things out. Just the two of them, with no distractions. Don't you?"

"There was no sign of struggle," Boggs reluctantly adds. "She might have gone willingly."

"_Might_ have," Gale corrects him.

"Regardless,"Finnick sighs, "nothing is going to change between them if they keep avoiding each other and having awkward, semi-emotional talks. Let's let them be for a few days, and if they don't come back on their own, I say we screw Coin and go after them ourselves."

"Pretty boy has a point," Boggs grunts.

Gale scoffs. "This is fucking unreal." He stalks away. The other soldiers part before him, and he shoos them away, back to their drills.

"I hope you're right," Boggs says to Finnick. His communicuff beeps, and he hurries off, barking orders at Mitchell and Holmes, who are cleaning their guns by the canteen.

"Yeah," Finnick mutters to himself, peering out into the vast land beyond the camp. "Me, too."

* * *

_I'm in Peeta's house in Victor's Village. Only the hallways aren't bare, the air of loneliness is gone. Instead there are pictures in frames on the walls and on the shelves, a jacket is thrown over the edge of the sofa. I approach it and notice a smudge of flour on the sleeve- Peeta._

Where is Peeta?

_I head upstairs to his bedroom. At the top of the stairs, there is a picture framed on the wall that makes me freeze. _

_It's us. Peeta and I. We're standing in the living room of his house, his arms wrapped around my waist from behind and his head resting on my shoulder. We aren't looking at the camera. My head is tilted towards his and I appear to be whispering in his ear as one hand runs through his hair. Peeta's eyes are closed and he looks so at peace, such a sharp contrast to the way he looks now. It awakens a sense of longing in me that I thought was long dormant._

_Moving on from the picture, I enter his bedroom. It looks neat, but messy enough to show that it's lived in. The closet door is slightly ajar, and I catch the edge of a familiar leather jacket. My dad's leather jacket. _My _leather jacket_.

What is this? _I think to myself. I run to the closet and rip open the door, sending a box tumbling to the ground. I kick it out of my way and dig through the clothes, carefully not to disrupt my jacket._

_Mine, mine, mine, Peeta's, mine, mine, Peeta's, mine._

_Startled, I take a step back. My foot catches on the box and I stumble. A few things spill out, and I bend quickly to pick them up._

_"What the hell," I breathe. On the floor around me are a strange variety of objects unlike anything I've seen before. There's a string of beads, a small cylindrical object with a switch on the bottom, and a bottle of some kind of lubricant. Curious, I peer into the box to see what other bizarre objects Peeta has. I find a pair of handcuffs, a strap of fabric with a plastic ball in the center, and what looks like a miniature whip, only this one doesn't look like it would do the same type of damage as Thread's._

_"You're home early."_

_I jump to my feet, dropping the weird toys on the ground with a clatter. Peeta is leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, a small smirk playing on his lips. _

_"How were the woods?"_

_"The what?" I ask. Peeta crosses the room and comes to stand in front of me. He raises his hand to caress my cheek, and I will myself not to flinch._

_"The woods," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my jaw. "You said you were going hunting."_

_When his lips meet my skin, a shudder rips through my body. He pulls back, and I look into his eyes, his shining blue eyes, clear of any malice or aggression, and almost weep with relief. His brows furrow in concern, and before he can say anything I throw my arms around his neck and yanks his lips to mine._

_Peeta's hands snake down my torso and over my waist as we kiss, and when he lands on my ass he gives it a firm squeeze that makes me yelp into his mouth. His response is to gently nip on my lower lip, and when he does I release a breathy moan. _

_"I see you took out our toys," he says between kisses. "Are you in the mood to play?"_

_"Our toys?" I ask. _

_"Oh," he says with a smirk, "so that's how you're going to play, huh? Alright."_

_"Peeta?"_

_"Get on the bed," he says, his voice suddenly low and commanding. "Take off your clothes and sit on the bed- but leave your underwear on."_

What?

_But somehow, I find myself complying. I shrug out of my shirt and shimmy my pants down my legs mechanically, like I was programmed to do so. I hesitate to take off my bra, but one sharp nod from Peeta had me unfastening the clasp and dropping the garment to the floor. Then I move so I'm sitting cross-legged on the mattress with Peeta standing right in front of me, his eyes never leaving mine._

_His gaze, surprisingly, does not make me uncomfortable. I don't ache to cover up, to run and hide. I relish the feeling of his eyes on me. They trail down my body with a look of undisguised lust that makes my clit throb and my heartbeats quicken._

_"You're so perfect," he mutters. I feel myself flush, and he groans. "Fuck. You look so sexy when you blush like that."_

_Peeta grabs the cylindrical object from the box and approaches the bed. He sits next to me and places it between us._

_"Lean back," he commands, "and grab the headboard."_

_I do as he says, situating myself so my hands are above my head, tightly wrapped around the wood of the headboard. Peeta adjusts the pillows so my neck isn't uncomfortable, and once I am situated, he trails a finger lightly down the side of my arm, making me shiver._

_"Katniss," he says, staring deep into my eyes. "Do _not_ let go of the headboard. Do you understand?"_

_"I understand," I say. _

_He smiles. "Good girl."_

What am I doing?

_My mind seems to be the only rational part of me, but it is overruled by the reactions of my body. Peeta's finger leaves my arm and slowly circles my nipple. He watches in fascination as it puckers and hardens under his touch, and when he lowers his mouth to it, all of my protests are out the window._

_"Oh!" I cry out as he blows over my heated flesh. "Peeta!" _

_"You like that, don't you, baby," he says, moving to the other nipple. "You always get so wet when I do that. Are you wet now?"_

_"Yes," I choke out. "Peeta, tou-"_

_"No!" Peeta's hand clamps around my mouth. "I'm in control now."_

_His index finger traces my lower lip as his other hand fists the small cylindrical object and brings it between my legs. His knee pushes them apart and he places the object over the crotch of my underwear. I strain to see what he's going to do, but then he flicks the switch at the bottom and my world explodes._

_Gentle vibrations pulse through the my underwear and onto my clit. I rock my hips against his hands, desperate for more, and he turns up the frequency with a wicked smile. _

_"Look at you, you're so wet you're seeping through your underwear," he purrs, running the vibrator up and over my clit, dragging it along my covered folds. "I can't wait to taste you."_

_"Yes!" I cry out. He pushes the vibrator harder against my clit. "Yes! Do that, Peeta, please."_

_"Do what?" _

_"T-taste me," I pant. I'm nearing the edge and I want to feel his mouth on me before I come. "Please."_

_"I love it when you beg," he growls. One more flick of the switch and the vibrations are so intense that my nails dig into the headboard and I throw my head back and groan. Peeta quickly flits the vibrator left and right over my tiny bundle of nerves and before I can blink I combust, arching my back off the bed and screaming his name so loud my throat rubs raw. _

_Peeta slows turns down the vibrations, bit by bit, until my body has settled into a trembling state and my limbs are liquefied. He kisses a path up my stomach, gently sucks on each nipple, and nuzzles up my neck until he reaches my lips. _

_"I love you," he mumbles against my lips before giving me a chaste kiss. I sigh into his mouth and lean in for another when I hear a door slam. Peeta laughs when I jump and quickly try to grab my clothes._

_"Relax," he says. "It's just Haymitch with the kids."_

_"The kids?" I repeat._

_"Yes, Katniss," Peeta replies slowly, looking concerned. "The kids. Our kids."_

I jolt awake with a gasp. Peeta looks up from the book he's reading on the chair beside my bed and arches an eyebrow.

"Bad dream?" he asks, turning a page.

"Not sure," I reply, cracking my neck. "It didn't start out that way."

"But it ended badly?"

"Well, I woke up here."

Peeta frowns. "I wouldn't insult the man who has the keys to your release." He smirks. "All kinds of release."

I roll my eyes. "Is there any possible way that we could adjust my bindings, dear captor? I can barely feel my arms."

"I'll do it while you're sleeping," Peeta says, looking back down at his book. "I promise."

"Sure you will," I grumble. But I still close my eyes and will myself to find unconsciousness once more. After a few minutes, my breathing evens out, and I'm asleep. The last thing I remember thinking about are two bubbly children with blonde hair and grey eyes.

* * *

**Sorry for the delay everyone. Hopefully the chapter didn't disappoint! Please feel free to contact me if you have any questions or would just like to chat. I would love to chat.**

**I'm 'ohalaskayoung' on tumblr, come find me! Thank you all for reading. :)**

**xoxo**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Six.**

The first thing I register when I wake is how comfortable I am. My hands are no longer tied above my head but rather cuffed together on top of my stomach. My ankles are still bound, but at least I can now bend my legs. At some point during the night, Peeta must have found me another pair of pants for me to wear in place of the one he ruined. The flannel fabric is warm and soothing against my skin, and I am thankful for the coverage.

"Good morning," Peeta says from his chair. He places the book he is reading down on his lap. "Are you more comfortable now?"

"Yes," I say, sitting up. Blood rushes to my head and I'm momentarily woozy. "How long was I asleep?"

"A few hours. It's around 9 a.m. now."

"Huh." I twist around, cracking my back. "So, how is this going to work now?"

"Excuse me?"

I gesture to my ankles. "I have to go to the bathroom. How are we going to do this?"

"Hmm." Peeta strokes his chin thoughtfully. His lips twist into a smirk, but before he can offer a suggestion, I interject.

"You aren't coming in with me, Peeta."

He chuckles. "Are you choosing now to be shy, Katniss? You didn't seem to care when I was knuckle-deep in your-"

"You are _not_ coming in with me," I repeat.

"Fine, fine," he says. "Let's go."

Before releasing my ankles from the bed, he ties them together, rendering me unable to move faster than a slow shuffle without falling flat on my face. I sit up and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, shaking them a few times to rid them of the pins and needles that had started to buzz up and down my appendages.

"The bathroom is the first door on the left," Peeta directs. I nod and shuffle past him, relishing in the feeling of free movement, even if it is restrained.

I lock the bathroom door shut behind me and sink down to the floor. My bladder is screaming in protest, but I ignore it, instead taking a few seconds to myself. There is a cabinet beneath the sink that I immediately rip open and begin prying through. I find nothing of use, not even a toothbrush. All that is there are some lotions and towels and a bottle of expired aspirin. In the medicine cabinet, I find a box of razors, but my excitement is dulled when I see that the box is empty.

Damn it, Peeta.

"Are you okay in there, Katniss?" Peeta asks, knocking lightly. "Do you need me to get you a bran muffin?"

"Shut up," I growl, "and get away from the door. I don't want you to listen to me pee."

"Fine." I hear him walk away, but I still don't trust him, so I run the water from the tap to disguise the sound.

Once I'm finished, I wash my hands and stare at myself in the mirror. My hair is greasy, I have bags under my eyes, and I'm pretty sure that I reek like rotten meat. I'll have to ask my warden for a shower.

"All done?" Peeta asks when I open the door. As I suspected he had been standing there the whole time. "Did you remember to wash your hands?"

"Yes, sir." I shuffle back to the bedroom and flop back onto the bed. "Are you ever going to untie me?" I ask, motioning to the cuffs around my wrists.

"Yes," Peeta says. "But only once I'm sure that you aren't a threat."

"You do realize that you're extremely delusional, right?"I say. "Majorly psychotic."

"At least we can be psychos together," he says with a wry smile.

Perhaps he's right. I must be psychotic for allowing this to happen, for putting up almost no fight and letting him whisk me away into complete isolation and manipulate me for his own selfish needs. What kind of person allows that to happen?

_There's good in him somewhere,_ I think. _I'm just waiting for it to show up._

"I'm sorry," Peeta mutters. I return my focus to him, shocked by the abrupt change in his tone. His head is hung as he speaks. "I really am, Katniss."

"Peeta-"

"No, Katniss." He looks up at me, and his eyes are brimming with tears. "I _hate_ that this is what I've become, Katniss. I _hate_ what I'm doing to you. I hope that one day you'll be able to forgive me."

_There it is._

I don't answer. Instead, I lift my arms and let him chain me to the bed.

* * *

_At the Rebel Camp_

Finnick and Gale sit in silence by the fire. The rest of the camp has retired to their tents, but they remain, silently cleaning their weapons. Since Katniss and Peeta disappeared, they had formed a bond with each other after realizing that the other was not as bad as they had originally thought.

"What was it like?" Gale asks suddenly. "The Capitol? Before all of this. Was it...was it as glamorous as they told us?"

"Katniss never told you about it?" Finnick asks, arching an eyebrow. "I thought you were best friends."

"Our relationship was a bit strained after the Games," he admits. "She didn't seem to like it much, but Katniss doesn't like much of anything."

"It's more than they tell us," Finnick says. "It's a thousand times more extravagant than what they tell you in school or during the Games. Everything is bigger and better and brighter. It's sickening."

"You always seemed to love it. From what I saw on the television, that is."

"After my Games, the Capitol sold my body to the highest bidder," Finnick deadpans. Gale swallows thickly, the air growing serious. "Men, women, it didn't matter. They wanted me, and for the night, I was theirs. I did whatever they asked. I blew kisses to the cameras, I told the women that I loved them, I let them paint me as some sex object for the enjoyment of the Capitol and choked down my vomit with each passing second."

"Why did you do it?" Gale pressed. "Why not just send a big old 'fuck you' right to President Snow and-"

"You don't say 'no' to the Capitol. No one can. They find something to use against you." Finnick picks at his boot. "I tried to refuse a few times. They picked off my family one by one, each time worse than the next. Mags was all I had left, until Annie."

"You were her mentor, right?" Gale asks. Finnick chuckles mirthlessly.

"More or less. I was too busy being paraded around to be much use to her. It was after the Games that I really got to know her."

"Didn't she, uh, go a little..."

"Mad?" Finnick finishes. "You could say that. As horrible as it was, I'm grateful for it. It was the only thing keeping her from the same fate as me. But you know as well as I do that it doesn't matter anymore."

Gale does know. He was the one who found Annie, shaking and sobbing in her cage, battered, bruised, and naked as the day she was born. He knows what they did to her.

"They brought in some of my old clients," Finnick spits out. "The particularly disgusting ones, too. They made her do the most horrific things, they told her what they made me do to them..." His hands are shaking, his face blood red. When he speaks again, he practically spits fire. "I want to kill them all."

"Get it line," Gale says, venom in his words as well. "When they cut out Madge's tongue, they starved her for days and then made her eat it."

Finnick spits into the fire. "They're fucked up people, Hawthorne. Every last one of them."

Gale nods in agreement. Then he reaches into his bag and pulls out a worn book with yellowed pages. He hands it to Finnick. "Do you know anything about this?"

Finnick squints so he can read the title in the dim light. "Sign language?"

"Yeah, I'm trying to surprise Madge." Gale opens the book and points at the tiny scrawl on the title page. _Madge Undersee. _"She used to use it to communicate with her mom- she was sick a lot and rarely talked. I know she uses it with her doctor, so I wanted to learn some. It's easier than her carrying around that notebook all the time."

"I know a few things," Finnick murmurs, flipping through the pages. "A few phrases, a word or two. When Mags had her stroke a few years back, Annie and I learned it with her husband so we could communicate. It's really interesting, actually. I can help you out, if you'd like."

His first instinct was to refuse. _Hawthornes don't accept handouts. _It was a phrase he had drilled into his siblings for as long as he can remember. But this time, he slowly nodded his head.

"I'd like that. Thanks, man."

Finnick grinned and handed the book back to him. "Lesson number one." He points the index finger of his right hand against his chin, rotating his wrist slightly. "You're welcome."

* * *

"I want to talk to you about the train," Peeta says when he brings me a lunch of grilled cheese and milk. When he sees the look on my face, he amends his statement. "Just talk, I promise. I just want to clarify something."

"I won't say anything unless you untie me," I bargain. "You can leave the cuffs on, but I don't want to be chained to the bed. That's the deal."

Peeta mulls this over. "Fine."

He releases me and I sit up so I am propped against the pillows. I take a bite of the sandwich. "What do you want to know?" I ask in between chews.

"Why wouldn't you tell me what happened?"

I flush. "I was embarrassed. It was wrong of me to do it and I was scared you'd be upset with me."

"Upset?" Peeta chortles. "I only would have been upset because I wasn't awake for it."

"I took advantage of you," I insisted. "It doesn't matter if I made you..._orgasm_, Peeta, you still didn't consent to it."

"It's alright, Katniss."

I sigh and drain my milk in one gulp. "What else do you want to know?"

"Was that the only thing that happened between us?" he asks.

"Yes," I affirm quickly. "That's it. I swear."

He stares at me for a moment. "Okay. I believe you."

An idea strikes me then. "Why don't we play a game?"

He regards me dubiously. "A game?"

"A game based off mutual trust," I explain. "You ask me a question, and I'll tell you if it's real or not. I promise I won't lie to you, and you have to promise to believe me."

"That doesn't sound like that fun of a game," Peeta murmurs, "but alright. Let's do it."

"You start," I prompt.

Peeta ponders his question for a moment. "Your favorite food is the lamb stew with dried plumbs you had during our first Games. Real or not real?"

"Real," I say with a smile. "It's one of the only good things they created."

"I think I remember having a particular preference for the hot chocolate, myself."

"That's right," I say. "You remembered."

"I haven't forgotten everything, you know. I'm just fuzzy about the bits concerning you."

"That's why we're playing this game," I say. "Keep the questions coming. I might not be in this mood for long."

"It's not like you're going anywhere," Peeta says with a smirk. I fix him with a glare, and although he doesn't lose the smirk, he sobers slightly. "You tried to kill me during the Quell, after I hit the force field. Real or not real?"

"Not real."

"You loaded your bow and pointed it at me."

"I pointed it at Finnick," I explain. "He pushed me away from you and I thought he was going to kill you himself. That was before I trusted him. He actually saved your life."

"I knew I liked him," Peeta mumbles. "Alright, um, next question. You're the reason that the Capitol bombed District Twelve. Real or not real?"

"Not real," I say quickly, but then I backtrack. "Well, I didn't give the order. I didn't want it to happen, Peeta, you know that. But I guess it was partially my fault, even though I didn't know about the rebels' plans."

"You tried to blow up the Arena so we'd all die. Real or not real?"

"Not real. Maybe real. Shit, I don't know." I close my eyes and take a deep breath. "I was just trying to help, to get us out alive. I didn't know what was going to happen."

"You were glad the Capitol took me. Real or not real?"

"Not real! Most definitely not real, Peeta Mellark." I open my eyes and see him nibbling at his thumbnail, watching me intently. "Just the opposite."

"Oh?"

"All I wanted was to save you," I tell him. "I made Haymitch promise to volunteer in your place. I made him promise to get you home. I just wanted you alive, Peeta, alive and safe. Finding out that they had you...it devastated me."

It more than devastated me; I went batshit crazy. Reliving the moment that Haymitch told me Peeta's whereabouts still makes my skin crawl.

"You hate me now. Real or not real?"

I hesitate before answering. "Not real."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I hate what they've done to you," I say. "I hate what they have turned you into. I hate your weird mood swings, I hate your new attitude, and I hate that you think I'm the enemy. But I don't hate you, Peeta."

"Did you ever love me?" he asks, surprising me. I feel my cheeks start to heat, and I avert my eyes.

"That's not how you ask the question," I say, stalling.

"You loved me once. Real or not real?"

"Real," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"There's a chance that you can love me again. Real or not real?"

"Real."

Peeta leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'll try to remember that."

"So will I," I mutter, "every time the skin of my hands and ankles chafe against these bindings."

He places his hand on my thigh, and I tense, but not out of fear. "I'll make you a deal now."

"Oh?"

"I'll untie you if you answer my next question without lying."

"I haven't been lying," I say indignantly. "I swore I wouldn't."

"I know that," Peeta says. "I just want assurance. Also, if you try to run, I'll have you back in these before you can say 'nightlock'. Got it?"

"I won't try to run," I assure him. I don't know why, but it's the truth. I should be running for the hills the second I get a chance, but I know I won't be. Another symptom of my supposed psychosis to add to the list.

He starts to free me.

Peeta unties me slowly, gauging my reaction. He slips the ties from my ankles, then trails his hands up my legs, over my stomach, and up to my hands, where he releases me from the cuffs. All I do is sit up straighter, closer to him. He leans in so that his lips are just inches from mine.

"You want to kiss me," he breathes. "Real or not real?"

"Not real," I answer. His brow furrows.

"You want _me_ to kiss _you_. Real or not real?"

"Real," I whisper, and before the word is fully out of my mouth his lips are on mine. I almost sob at the feeling; I had been craving his touch for too long. His lips were just as soft as I remembered, and they moved against mine with vigor. My hands wind into his hair and pull him impossibly close.

"You want me to stop," he says, pulling away. "Real or not real?"

"Not real," I insist, moving to straddle his waist. I pepper his jaw line with kisses. "Absolutely not real."

Peeta groans and grabs my face, connecting our lips again. This time, his tongue probes my mouth. It's a new sensation, but not at all unpleasant. He asserts his dominance, and I let him, relishing in the feeling of our tongues moving together. His hands slide down my sides and grip my ass firmly, pressing my hips down onto his.

His lips nip at the skin of my throat, and when I move my hands from his hair to cup his face, Peeta's hand comes up and traps my wrists, pushing me down and pinning them to the bed. His grip tightens when I gasp.

The pressure triggers a chain reaction. I feel moisture pool in my center just as my clit begins to throb impatiently. My nipples harden to firm peaks beneath my clothes, and I cry out as Peeta's teeth graze my pulse point.

"You liked what I did to you yesterday," Peeta growls against my skin. "Real or not real?"

"R-real," I gasp. "B-but I'm still mad ab-about it."

"You want me to do it again. Real or not real?"

I crane my neck, searching for his lips so I don't have to answer. He kisses me until I feel lightheaded, and then pulls away, leaving me desperate for more.

"You want me to do it again. Real or not real?"

My body is screaming, begging for friction to release the pressure that's building inside of me. I ache for his hands on me again, for the delicious feeling of his fingers working me until I'm dripping wet. I had been denied my release for too long, and I'll be damned if I don't get it now.

"Real," I whimper.

Peeta smirks. "I was hoping you'd say that."

He grabs the bottom of my shirt and slowly brings it up, his fingertips dragging over my skin. I sit up so he can toss it over my head, and the minute the cool air hits my skin, I become acutely aware of how exposed I am going to be.

"Wait," I say, crossing my arms over my bra-covered chest. "I'm not- I don't have-"

"You're fine, Katniss." Peeta's hands cover my arms and slowly pull them away. His voice softens. "You're beautiful."

I let him take my bra off.

It's strange, at first. His hands have been in my most intimate places but yet I feel the most vulnerable with his eyes on my breasts. They are small and plain, but he's looking at them like they are the most prize jewels in all the world. He moves his head down slowly and his tongue slips out to gently flick my nipple.

"Oh!" I gasp. He gets bolder, taking it into his mouth and giving it a hard suck that has me arching into his mouth. His hand comes up and twists the other between his fingers, creating a delightful contrast. "Yes, Peeta."

He releases my nipple with a _pop_. "Louder," he commands, kissing down my bare stomach. His tongue dips into my belly button, which sent a surprising jolt through my core. "I want to hear you."

The flannel pants are off in seconds. I am panting as he spreads my legs, completely baring me to him. He moves to touch me, but I stop him.

"You, too," I say, grabbing his shirt. He allows me to pull it off him, and I am shocked at the muscles that had been hidden under the fabric. Training had seriously done him well.

"Watch me," Peeta growls, sinking down so he is at eye-level with my center. I squirm, slightly uncomfortable. It can't be that great of a view.

"W-what are you doing-"

"I want to taste you," he whispers, rubbing my clit with his thumb. I buck against his hand, unsure if he misspoke.

"Peeta, what do you- _Oh fuck!_"

His tongue replaces his thumb on my clit, and he suckles it in his mouth like he had done with my nipple. I forget how strange the action is- I _pee _down there- and thread my fingers through his hair, locking him in place. His tongue moves up and down my slit, over my clit, even _inside _of me. When he pulls back, his mouth and chin are wet with my juices.

"You taste fucking delicious," he groans, taking two fingers to my clit and rubbing me furiously. "I want you to come all over my mouth."

I whimper at his words. I'm so close to the edge, I'm positive that it would only take another dirty phrase from him to send me into bliss.

"More," I beg. "I'm so close, Peeta, please."

He slips his middle finger inside of me, curling it in just the right way that has me screaming. "Like that?"

"Yes!" I cry as he works it in and out of me. "Peeta, I'm going to come!"

Peeta removes his finger and puts his mouth on me again, enthusiastically licking me to completion. I come hard, writhing and gushing and screaming, my thighs locking around his head and keeping him firmly in place.

"Fuuuuuck," I whimper as my body twitches with the aftershocks of my orgasm.

"I want to do that to you every day," Peeta tells me, kissing his way back up my body. When he reaches my lips, the taste of myself shocks me, but I decide that I like it.

"Sounds like a plan to me."

Peeta chuckles and pulls me close. I've missed the warmth of his body next to mine. As we lay together, I think of my dream the night before. I think of how commanding he was, how much I liked it.

My eyes drift to the handcuffs, tossed haphazardly across the room.

I think of how it wouldn't be so bad if sometimes I kept them on.

* * *

**Halfway done, everyone! Thanks for sticking with me this long. Also, thanks to my beta, wollaston, for always being supportive and extremely helpful. If you have any questions or would just like to chat, I'm on tumblr as 'ohalaskayoung'.**

**xoxo**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Seven.**

The dark, feral look in Peeta's eyes has disappeared by the time we wake up. He arches his back and stretches, a low groan rising from deep in his chest. My head is resting on his sternum, and the sound reverberates through my head and down my body, making my toes curl.

"Hi," he says, his voice cracking.

"Hi," I reply softly.

"Did you sleep well?" he asks, kissing the top of my head. I curl into him more tightly and squeeze my eyes shut to ward off the tears that pricked them.

"Yes," I say. "I was a lot more comfortable, too."

Peeta sighs. "I'm sorry, Katniss. For how I acted. I can't believe how horrible I was to you. I could apologize every second for the rest of our lives and it still wouldn't be enough."

"You weren't in control, Peeta." I prop my chin up on his chest and look him in the eyes. "The fact that you're here with me now is more than enough."

He gives me a watery smile, and my heart thuds unevenly.

"I've missed you," he whispers, and I know what he means. He's missed being able to see me the way he's always seen me, not as the mutt trying to kill him. I've missed him, too. The real him, unadulterated with Capitol poison.

"I've missed you, too."

I push myself up to press my lips to his. His arms wind around my waist and heave me up so I'm straddling his torso, and his hands slide down to grip my thighs. Our lips touch softly, hesitantly at first, and then grow more confident. I nip at his bottom lip and he slides his tongue into my mouth, making me gasp in pleasure. Before we can go further, my stomach growls obnoxiously, and we pull apart. Peeta snorts and pokes my stomach.

"Um, excuse me. We're a little busy at the moment."

"Feed me," I command, poking his nose in return. Peeta sighs and picks me up, placing me back on the bed as he sits up. At some point during the night he must have changed, because he is wearing only boxer shorts, and he picks his prosthetic up off the floor and attaches it as I yawn. It takes a moment for the effect of the action to reach me, but when it does, I am stunned.

He trusts me again.

"Come on," Peeta says, standing up and offering me a hand. I find the shirt I was wearing the night before and slip it over my head, along with my underwear. Peeta frowns as I clothe myself, but a look from me wipes the grimace from my face. "Let me give you the grand tour."

I had already seen the bathroom across the hall, so Peeta leads me into the living room, complete with plush couches and a television the size of me mounted over a tremendous fireplace. The kitchen is all granite countertops and glistening appliances, and there is a plate of cookies on top of the table.

"I was a little restless last night," Peeta says with a blush. "I managed to scrape together the necessary ingredients."

I grab two and shove one in my mouth, relishing the delicious chocolate on my tongue. I offer Peeta the other, but he shakes his head, and I pop it into my mouth without a second thought.

"Do you want some real food or are the cookies going to be your breakfast?" he jokes.

"Well, what do we even have?" I say through a mouthful of cookie. "You said the people just up and left. Wouldn't the food have gone bad?"

"Not all of it," Peeta says, opening a cabinet. "There's some nonperishable food in here, and some fruit on the table that's still good. We can probably get another day or two out of the milk, and the cheese looks fine. There's a freezer in the basement with some meat, also."

"Wow. We could stay here forever," I joke.

Peeta grows serious. "That's another thing, Katniss. I don't want you to feel like a prisoner here. The second you want to leave, we're gone. We'll go right back to camp and I'll take full responsibility of kidnapping you."

I walk around the table and wrap my arms around him, placing my head on his chest. "It's fine, Peeta. I-I don't mind being here."

"Really?"

"Really," I affirm. "I'll admit, it wasn't too appealing for the first few days, but I honestly wouldn't mind spending some time here with you. I think it would be good for us."

The rational part of me protests my selfishness. _There's a rebellion going on, one that you started! You are the Mockingjay. They need you!_

I ignore it and stay selfish a little while longer.

"That sounds nice," Peeta says. He tilts my chin up to give me a chaste kiss, and then he starts breakfast.

We eat breakfast in relative silence, our hands clasped together between us as we pick at the pancakes Peeta made. Afterwards we find some clothes in one of the bedrooms and take turns freshening up. Then we take to the backyard, where the sun warms our faces as we talk. We play Real or Not Real for about an hour, and Peeta gets a little upset over a question or to, but he comes back to me quickly.

When the sun starts to set, we head back inside. I am lucky enough to find deer meat in the freezer downstairs, so I help Peeta prepare a stew. The taste of domesticity is one I'd never thought I'd get, and I once again find myself thinking of my dream from the other night. I allow myself to think about what might happen five, ten, fifteen years in the future, if the rebellion is successful and we can live in peace. I allow myself to believe that Peeta and I might have a shot at a life together.

The thought makes warmth bubble up inside me, and when Peeta asks me if I want pepper on my share, I launch myself at him and kiss him until we're both breathless.

* * *

When nighttime rolls around, we fall into bed, similarly to how we did during the Victory Tour. Except this time, instead of holding each other until we fall asleep, I climb on top of Peeta and kiss him deeply. His hands grip my ass and grind our centers together, and when I feel his hardness beneath me, I become acutely aware of the fact that while he's given me my share of orgasms, he has yet to have one.

"Will you let me touch you?" I ask as Peeta kisses his way down my throat. His lips still.

"Y-you want to do that?"

"Of course!" I say. "You've seen me, so it's only fair if I see you, too."

Peeta smirks. "Well, in the name of fairness..."

He lifts up his arms and I yank his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. I trail my hands over his chest, through the fine blonde smattering of hair and down his toned stomach. His breaths start to grow heavy as I move lower and lower, and when I reach his happy trail, he stops all together.

I slip my hands beneath the band of his underwear, and when my fingers brush his length he gasps and arches into my touch. I feel a rush of power as I curl my hand around him and slowly begin to pump up and down. Peeta's eyes roll back into his head and his hips thrust upwards to meet my movements. I am surprised to find that I like the feeling of him in my hand; he is thick and rock hard while maintaining a certain softness. I use my other hand to slide his underwear the rest of the way off, fully exposing him to me. He watches me anxiously, as if he's scared that I'll be horrified at what I see, but the effect is just the opposite.

I think back to the conversations I had heard in school about what went on behind the slag heap, desperate for any information that might help me. Then I remember something that Mara Tywell said once, whispered to her friend behind me during our history class.

_"Always use your mouth- They absolutely love it."_

I hope she was right.

"FUCK!" Peeta yells when I lower my mouth onto him. I jump back immediately.

"What? Did I hurt you?!"

"No!" Peeta says, breathing heavily. "Absolutely not, Katniss. That felt amazing. Everything you were doing felt amazing."

"Sh-should I keep going?" I ask, suddenly very self-conscious.

"_Yes_!"

_Well, then. _

I decide to go slower this time, kissing down the path my fingers had made until I reach his cock, and then I gently press my lips against the tip. Peeta hisses and winds his fingers into my hair. I tentatively lick his warm, sensitive flesh and am surprised that I don't mind his slightly salty taste. I slowly gain more confidence, and soon I have my mouth around him, and Peeta's hands guide the movements of my head as I take more of him into my mouth.

"Yes, Katniss," he sighs, never taking his eyes off me. "That's right. Suck my cock, baby."

I whimper at his words, feeling my wetness seep through my underwear. I hollow my cheeks and take him as deep as I can, surprised that I can almost fit his considerable length in my mouth before he hits the back of my throat and I release him with a gasp.

"I want you inside of me."

The words are out of my mouth before I can even register the thought. Peeta's eyes widen, and he gapes like a fish before quickly rolling us over so that I am now beneath him. He tenderly cups my face in his hands and looks into my eyes.

"Are you positive, Katniss? Is this real?"

I grip his wrists and nod. "Real."

He is gentle with me as he helps me out of my clothes, kissing every patch of skin as it is exposed. When he pulls my underwear down my legs, he hisses with appreciation at what I know is my heated flesh, absolutely dripping with my desire for him. Peeta spreads my legs and hooks my feet over his neck as he devours me, licking and sucking my clit and hitting just the _right_ places with his tongue. He brings me to the edge three times before allowing me to fall, and when it happens, I scream his name so loudly that it's a wonder that all of the Capitol doesn't hear me.

"Can you taste yourself?" he asks after kissing me languidly. I lick my lips and nod, not displeased with the taste. Peeta's pupils dilate, and he kisses me again.

Finally, he settles between my legs. I wrap my calves around his waist, completely baring myself to him. He props himself up on his elbows and takes each of my hands in his, kissing each one gently before placing them both on the bed.

"Are you sure?" he asks once more.

"Yes, Peeta," I say. I slide one hand from his grip and wrap it around the base of his cock. I guide it towards my center, gasping as the tip brushes my opening. "Make love to me. Please."

The words seem to trigger something in him. His eyes darken, and I swear he gets harder in my hand. Peeta connects our lips once more as I help make us one. I tense when he meets my resistance, but I feel nothing more than a brief flash of pain that quickly fades into a dull throb as he moves within me. It then changes to radiating waves of pleasure as he hits the spot inside of me that makes my head spin.

"Faster," I whimper. "Harder, Peeta, please."

"You want it harder?" he growls, nipping at the skin below my ear. He complies instantly and I cry out. "Yes, Katniss, louder. I want to hear you scream."

"Oh, fuck, Peeta!" My voice comes out as a strangled sob. I am racing towards the edge fast, and his words are only helping speed things up. "Yes! Just like that!"

"I'm going to come," he warns me just as my orgasm washes over me. I arch off the bed and cry out into his neck, and I know he can feel me tighten around his cock because he groans and drives into me harder. After a few seconds he shudders and stills, and I can feel his warm cum spill inside of me. Peeta collapses on top of me, and I welcome his weight for a few moments, and then it becomes a bit uncomfortable.

"Um," I say with a laugh, poking his shoulder. "Excuse me."

"Oh, sorry," Peeta says with a chuckle, rolling onto his back and pulling me on top of him. I try and push my snarled hair out of my face so I can look at him properly, but my knotted mane won't behave. Peeta's hands replace mine and he starts combing through the tangles with ease.

"W-was that okay for you?" he asks, suddenly shy. His cheeks flush and he averts his eyes.

"It was amazing, Peeta," I say. I kiss the skin of his chest, just over where his heart beats a steady rhythm that I have grown familiar with. "Perfect."

"For me, too," he says with a boyish grin. "Would you, uh, would you want to do it again in the morning?"

I smirk. "You're going to make me wait until the morning?"

Peeta's face falls. "Well, it's just that I need a bit of time to recover and-"

I cut him off with a laugh. "I'm only messing with you. I'll be ready whenever you are."

He rolls his eyes, but his lips quirk up into a grin. I stretch up to kiss him slowly, trying to convey all of my feelings into the movement. When I lay back down on his chest the dazed look in his eyes tells me that I have succeeded.

As we lay together afterwards, Peeta drifts off with his fingers still in my hair as my mind races. I don't know why I have always been so shy when it came to sex- it is fucking _great_. The more I think about it, the stronger the throbbing between my legs becomes.

I think of how Peeta spoke to me, how his breathless phrases that I am not even sure he realized he said turned me on more than I ever thought possible. Dirty talk had never sounded appealing to me, but hearing curse and use such foul language while fucking me was one of the hottest things imaginable. I want more _immediately_.

I glance at Peeta. He's already sound asleep. Sighing, I try to snuggle under the covers and will my libido to take a rest, too. Just as I am drifting off, an idea begins forming in my mind, and I make a note to find the handcuffs Peeta had used on me earlier.

* * *

_In District Thirteen_

Madge leaves her doctor in a hurry. Now that she has somewhat adjusted to her empty mouth, it is easier for her to eat and drink. Before her appointment, she had not only cleaned her entire plate but drank both her and Johanna's cups of water. Now she is terrified that her bladder is going to explode.

She ducks into the community bathrooms in the hospital wing, hurriedly locking herself in a stall. She is just unbuttoning her pants when she hears it: a soft, muffled sob.

Madge freezes. She hears the noise again, a bit louder. She squats to the ground and peers to either side, and sees a pair of legs shaking three stalls down. Legs she recognizes.

Sighing and willing her need to pee to retreat, Madge adjusts her pants and slips out of the stall. She approaches the site of the sobs and knocks gently on the door, clearing her throat.

The door opens an inch, and watery blue eyes peers out at her. "Madge?"

Prim swings the door open the rest of the way, careful to keep herself covered. Her face is marred by tear stains and she looks so terrified that Madge's heart breaks on sight. She quickly slips herself inside the cramped stall and locks the door behind her. A small rectangular notepad and pencil are kept in her back pocket, so she pulls them out and writes on the first clean page.

_What's wrong?_

Prim hiccups and wipes her nose. "I- I don't know. Well, I think I know, but no one really ever told me what to do-"

Madge places a comforting hand on Prim's cheek and wipes away the newest tear.

"I had a really bad stomachache all day and I thought I might be getting sick so I went to the bathroom and, well, there was _blood_ and at first I thought I was dying and then I remembered that this used to happen to Katniss sometimes but I don't know what I'm supposed to-"

Madge made a noise in the back of her throat and Prim stopped her rambling.

_You're fine, Prim. Don't worry, this is completely natural._

"It is?"

_Absolutely. You've started your period, which is totally normal at your age._

"Will I always bleed like this?"

_Not all the time, but pretty often. Why don't you come back to my room and I'll show you what to do._

Prim looks around awkwardly. "O-okay. What should I do about..."

_Grab some toilet paper and bunch it up in your underwear. It'll be a bit uncomfortable, but it will last you until we get to my room._

"Alright." Prim snuffles once more and wipes her eyes. "Thanks, Madge."

Madge's lips twist up on the sides and she ducks out of the stall to give her some privacy. Prim emerges a few seconds later, red as a tomato, and washes her hands. They walk briskly to the compartment Madge shares with Gale, and she ushers Prim into the bathroom once more.

"Madge, w-would it be okay if I used your shower? I feel a bit gross and I think I just need to rinse off."

Madge nods enthusiastically and gestures towards the shower. Prim shoots her a grateful smile and kicks off her shoes. Madge busies herself with grabbing things from her small drawer beneath the sink and placing them on the counter, then she scribbles furiously onto her paper.

_These_- she picks up one box- _are pads. You attach them to your underwear and change them every couple of hours. It's kind of gross and uncomfortable, so I normally just wear them at night. During the day, you can wear these_- she holds up the other box_- which are tampons. You insert them into your vagina and it absorbs the blood before it leaves your body. It's a cleaner, more comfortable option, but you need to make sure you change them often because if you leave them in for too long you can get sick._

"Wow." Prim makes a face. "That's more complicated than I had anticipated."

Madge's hand is starting to ache, but she ignores it. _The joys of womanhood._

Prim giggles, then quickly sobers. "Will it always hurt this bad?"

_Your period typically lasts for one week per month, but some cycles are different than others. Next month you could feel fine, and the month after that you could have the worst cramps of your life. It sucks, but you'd be surprised how much your body can endure._

Prim sighs, rubbing her stomach. "Yeah, I guess so. Us girls are pretty tough, huh?"

Madge smirks. _You have no idea._

She leaves Prim to jump in the shower and goes to grab her a change of clothes. As she is rummaging through her drawers, her fingers brush over a wrinkled white shirt tucked behind her pajamas. Her throat constricts and tears immediately sting her eyes.

Gale's shirt. The shirt he was wearing the day before he left for the Capitol. Madge had ripped it off him that night before he made love her. It had been their most passionate night together, and neither one of their eyes had been dry throughout the whole thing. They had fallen asleep cocooned around each other, Madge listening to the strong, steady beat of Gale's heart as he scraped his fingers gently along her scalp. When morning arrived, Gale was gone, and his shirt was left wrinkled on the floor. After sobbing for a few minutes, Madge had carefully folded it and placed it in her drawer, where she would take it out and inhale his scent when his absence grew too painful.

She holds it to her chest for a moment before returning it to its place. Prim's voice suddenly rings out from the bathroom.

"Madge!"

She approaches the bathroom door and knocks to let her know she is there.

"Thank you, Madge. For everything. I-I'm so glad you're here."

Madge smiles and rests her head against the door, knocking again.

"And it's not that I don't appreciate you or anything, because I _really do_, it's just...I miss Katniss."

Her voice catches as she speaks, and Madge reaches up to wipe a tear from her own eye. She knocks one more time, softer.

_Me, too, Prim. Me, too._

* * *

**Sorry it took so long for me to update! Thanks to wollaston, my amazing beta, for her support and dick advice. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter; it will only get better from here. If you have any questions or just want to chat, I'm 'ohalaskayoung' on tumblr. Please be my friend.**


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